The WHO ARE YOU Compilation
by WHO ARE YOU challenge
Summary: Twenty-three stories by twenty-three very good authors participating in a writing experiment to see whether their writing can be recognized without any indication of their penname or identity. It's all very hush-hush!
1. Welcome to Chuckland

**The WHO ARE YOU Challenge**

-

Disclaimer: The Chuck characters in these twenty-three stories are simply borrowed.

'Foreword': I'd like to thank each author who contributed to this giant experiment. The calibre of writing is absolutely unbelievable, so I do hope you enjoy all the efforts you guys put in!

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Once upon a time in third-era Chuckland, there were twenty-three respected writers-

_brickroad16_

_kroblues_

_Wepdiggy_

_sgafan360_

_mxpw_

_malamoo_

_Zyfr_

_SarahLisaWalkerFan101_

_londonwriting_

_Just Chuck_

_Mikki13_

_crystal elements_

_Zerectica_

_TwotoTenth_

_chasingfireflies_

_Liam2_

_Sm93Starbuck_

_Poa_

_kittygoddess415_

_Yokaputo_

_MySoapBox_

_truthseekr_

_and _

_fAted lOvE_

...

They each decided to write a short story about King Charles and Queen Sarah to entertain their fellow Chuckians. But as fate may have it, the manuscripts were mixed up by the evil Lord Emmet and alas, the writers were confined to _the Cage _deep in the Castle of Buymoria.

-

**And so, my brave Agents, this is your mission**:

The manuscripts will be presented in groups of six without their writer's names. You will read and review each, _without_ mentioning any names (in the review or to other people), as Buymoria is a dangerous world with lurking undercover Agents. Discussing writer's styles without in/direct references may be allowed on the forums if you wish but any traitors will be chained and thrown from a cliff.

At the conclusion, and only at _the end_, when all twenty-four have been revealed, I, the almighty narrator will accept your votes regarding who the writer's identity of each story may be.

Clearer voting instructions will be provided at the end of your journey.

A daunting task lies ahead of you, so without further ado!

* * *

.net/topic/49974/19023805/9/#19559037

.net/u/2098131/


	2. Dedication

_-_

_For Chris._

_Sleep well_

_-_

_23.10.08_


	3. Entry One

_

* * *

_

_Entry One_

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The sky gradually darkens to an inky black as bright spots of light flicker across its face, their fiery glow reflected upon the shimmery surface of the rippling sea. Wrapping her arms tightly around her slender frame, Sarah hardly notices as goosebumps rise upon her cool, pale skin. Her thoughts are too far away, too wrapped up in the night which came before. And as she stares out at the mysterious depths of the glistening ocean, her own words echo back as if she's speaking them now and not five hours earlier.

_How many times do you have to be a hero to realize that you _are _that guy?_

As the words reverberate through her mind, she can feel his fingers clasped gently around her hand, his cheek brushing lightly against her face, and his body pressed closely against her own. The very sensation, the very memory gives her chills, and she tightens her arms more securely around herself even while battling the incessant thoughts preying upon her mind. (It probably doesn't help that she's standing here, at the spot they shared just before everything changed.)

She knows she has to stop this. She has to stop reliving the past and start confronting the future, start facing the facts. Regardless of how close she was, and despite the fact that she can still feel him in her arms, the truth is that it doesn't matter now. It stopped mattering when he downloaded the Intersect and eradicated his chances for a normal life. It stopped mattering when he returned to his former position as her asset, causing her to once again become his handler. And now it's her job to embrace the realities of Sarah Walker, the handler, and let go of the dreams of Sarah Walker, the woman buried deep inside.

The thought causes her stomach muscles to tense, and she drops her hands to her sides, curling them into tight fists. But even so, she can't seem to stop the memories from flooding her mind. She can't seem to stop herself from remembering how it felt to dance in his arms, how it felt to lose herself in his touch. And when he finally finds her on the beach with the cool sand pressed between her toes and half a dozen wrinkles upon her brow, she's still lost in her thoughts.

"Hey," he says softly, and she's almost thankful for the intrusion. At least now she has an excuse to stop reflecting on what could have been. The problem is, she's not quite ready to focus on what has to be. So when he greets her softly, and even when he fixes her with intense brown eyes, she's still staring straight ahead at the surf. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he finally murmurs, his tone laced with sympathy and regret.

"For what?" she whispers, rubbing her arms with her chilly fingertips. The action leaves icy trails upon her skin, which contrast perfectly with the burning ache within her chest.

"For Bryce," Chuck replies, turning to stare at the dark waves. He opens his mouth to say more, but closes it a second later as creases appear between his eyes.

"It's not your fault," she says automatically, attempting to push aside the image which flashes through her mind. Her old boyfriend, her first partner, lying still and motionless on the ground while his blue eyes stared into nothingness. Shivering, she steps inadvertently closer to the man by her side, her elbow brushing against his own.

"I know," Chuck admits, the creases growing deeper upon his face. "It's just – I know how much you wanted this. To work with Bryce. To save the world."

She feels a sudden longing, gradual at first but growing in intensity until it's almost overpowering. And as she takes a deep breath, she realizes that the feeling has nothing to do with the other agent. "I wasn't going to go with Bryce," she murmurs.

Chuck blinks in surprise, swiveling to face her once more. "But –"

"I wanted to stay here," Sarah says quietly, a guarded layer slipping over the vulnerability depicted within her eyes.

His lips part at the words, and he studies her for a long moment. "Why?" he finally asks, his voice catching on the syllable.

She swallows as the question washes over her and their gazes lock, a thousand more questions seeming to pass between them both. Eventually, she turns back to staring at the roiling sea, its churning waters moving in rhythm with the feelings coursing through her body. Gritting her teeth, she attempts to purge the vulnerability from her eyes so that her careful, cautious façade falls back into place. "Why did you do it?" she says, unable or unwilling to answer his query. "I thought you wanted a normal life."

He licks his lips and pushes his converses through the sand, seeming to weigh his response. "For Bryce," he replies. Then: "For you. For me."

Sighing, Sarah narrows her eyes at the liquid horizon. "That doesn't really answer my question," she points out, trying to keep the frustration from her voice.

He's quiet for a moment as he nudges a haphazard pile of earth into place by his feet. When he finally does speak, his words are laced with a quiet confidence. "For two years, all I could think about was being a normal guy with a normal life." He pauses, turning to her with his deep brown gaze. "And then Bryce died."

Letting out an aggravated huff of air, Sarah turns to face him. "That doesn't –"

"Please let me finish," Chuck pleads, causing Sarah's brows to arch in surprise. When she doesn't say anything else, he continues: "All I could think about was the work Bryce had started, and how I owed it to him to make sure it was finished. Sarah, a lot of people are counting on us to bring down the Ring. If I destroyed that computer tonight, I would only be helping out the enemy."

Despite herself, Sarah can't help but allow her expression to soften as a prickle of empathy trickles through her veins. "Chuck, it's not your job to save the world." But even as the statement falls from her mouth, she knows that it's futile. A warmth flows through her as she realizes that telling Chuck it isn't his job to be a hero is akin to telling the stars to stop illuminating the pitch black sky – a fact illustrated by what he says next.

Reaching hesitantly for her hand, his courage seems to grow when she allows him to thread his fingers through the negative spaces of her own. "You've always told me I was a hero," he says, a soft, determined smile spreading across his face. "Maybe it's time that I acted like one."

"You don't have to act like a hero to be a hero, Chuck," Sarah replies, an electrical current flowing through her hand as it comes into contact with his soft, clammy skin. And then, before she can stop herself: "How many times do you have to be a hero to realize that you _are_ that guy?"

A wistful hue enters his smile as he rubs his thumb along the back of her wrist. "Maybe just one more time," he says.

A yearning courses through her, and she squeezes his hand. And even though she doesn't know where this leaves them, and despite the fact that she wants nothing more than to turn back time, she feels her disappointed anger seep away to be replaced by a hint of optimistic hope. "One more time," she echoes, her voice clear above the rushing of the sea. Instinctively, she leans her head against his shoulder as the rhythmic splashing of the surf caresses her ears and causes her muscles to relax.

She knows she's still his handler. She knows that tomorrow, she'll have to slip back into agent mode. She knows that might mean distancing herself, guarding her feelings, maybe even ending this thing. And while the very idea causes a sharp pain to pierce her chest, she takes a deep breath and pushes the thought aside. Because for tonight, none of that matters. For tonight, the only thing that matters is Chuck Bartowski, the reluctant hero standing close by her side. So for tonight, she'll lean her head against his shoulder, and she'll allow him to hold her hand, and she'll pretend like nothing has changed.

"One more time," she repeats. And when he rests his cheek on top of her head, she closes her eyes and revels in his touch, the ocean beating a steady, lulling cadence by their feet.

* * *


	4. Entry Two

* * *

_Entry Two_

-

He's wearing a deep blue T-shirt, a pair of faded jeans and his favorite shoes on his feet. His hair is starting to make those funny animals shapes that she loves so much. His scent is intoxicating. His smile lights the room. And in his soft chocolate eyes, she sees her heart.

She forgets about the food that sits in front of her. She's not interested in it. That can wait until later. Instead, she just stares at him. She can't tear her eyes away and she doesn't want to even try. But she's not just looking at him, she's studying him. She wants to memorize every minute detail of the man seated on the other side of the little table in her room. She never wants to forget. She wants this moment to live within her forever.

In one moment she's sitting at the table watching him, and in the next, they're standing together in the middle of the room. Her hand is on his shoulder, and his is on her hip. Her body is pressed against his and she can feel his warmth radiating through her. She delights in the sensation.

The table is bare, but she doesn't remember clearing it. Nor does she remember eating. Even the food that had been on her plate has been forgotten. But that doesn't concern her at all. All that matters is that she is in his arms. Nothing else is important.

She hears the music that begins to play softly in her ears. It's barely audible, but soon the melodic sound of the beautiful piano solo grows until it fills the room. It's hypnotic and Chuck is pulling her into a dance.

She goes along willingly, letting him dictate their movements. She closes her eyes and allows Chuck to take her wherever he wants. She gave all control over to him. It is his with which he can do whatever he pleases.

They glide along on the floor as their dance takes them all across the room. They fit together as one, a perfect mix-matched pair. He in his causal jeans, T-shirt and a well worn pair of Chucks. She in an elegant black dress and heels. She wouldn't have it any other way. It is perfect.

She wants to hold him like this forever and never let go. She wants the music to go on and on, never stopping. She wants to feel his skin against hers eternally. She wishes his heart could beat alongside hers forever. But the piano fades and the dance ends.

They are sitting on her bed now. The room is dark except for the light that enters in through the window. Her shoes are gone and so is her dress. Now she is wearing lacy purple lingerie and he has been stripped down to his boxers and T-shirt.

She doesn't remember how they got into this position or how they came to be in their current sate of dress, but again she doesn't care. She doesn't care at all. As long as he is with her, she isn't bothered by those little details. If she suddenly found herself alone on the moon with him, she wouldn't be worried and she wouldn't try to figure it out. She would be content in knowing that they were together.

His hand softly brushes her cheek as he tucks her golden hair behind her ear. For a moment, his hand lingers there. It makes her cheeks burn with color. She waits in nervous anticipation for him to make his next move. When he does, his fingers lightly glide across her skin, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck as he ever so gently pulls her to him. When only a sliver of air exists between them, he closes the distance with his lips.

The kiss is slow and filled with a sweet, gentle kind of love. Every moment of contact between their lips is savored. Sarah locks the feeling of his kiss in her heart. That way, it would never be forgotten.

His fingers are dancing through her golden strands. She loves the feeling. His other hand gently rests against her cheek. The feel of his hand on the delicate skin of her face is even more amazing than that of his fingers in her hair. She melts into him and the world shrinks away until all that is left is their kiss.

As she kisses Chuck, Sarah doesn't seem to need to breathe. No matter how long it goes on, she never needs to break the contact between their lips to take a breath. His kiss is like oxygen to her. She feels like it could go on forever, and if Sarah had her way, it would.

She doesn't remember when the kiss ended or how long it lasted, but now she finds herself lying under the covers, Chuck's warm body spooned against hers. His arm is wrapped around her and she holds his hand. The way in which she held his hand was as if her life depended on it, as if their joined hands kept her soul intact.

She scoots herself closer to him. She can't get close enough. Her back is now pressed firmly against his chest. But she still doesn't feel close enough. She tugs on his arm, wrapping it more tightly around her waist. She needs to feel his presence. She doesn't want to forget how it feels to lie against him, wrapped in his arms. It's too important to her that she remembers this feeling.

She listens to his steady, rhythmic breathing. He's asleep. She loves that sound. She treasures it. It is music to her ears. Before Chuck, she never knew the sound of someone sleeping could be so beautiful. But with him it is. This too she wants to remember. She wants to remember everything.

All too soon she's waking up and she's all alone. Chuck is gone. His clothes aren't splayed out on the floor and neither are hers. Every shred of evidence of his presence and any indicators of the moments they shared have vanished.

The bed she lies in is different. The room is different too. Gone is the green door and the green furniture. In this room, the door and the furniture are brown. Everything is different. Even she herself is different.

Her long golden locks are gone. Her flowing blonde hair has been replaced by shoulder-length hair of an auburn color. She is no longer Sarah Walker. She is now known by the name of Emma Roux.

As Emma rises from her bed, she leaves her dream underneath the pillow. Emma Roux doesn't know Chuck Bartowski. She's never heard of Sarah Walker. Emma has never even been to California.

As she gets ready, she transforms into her new cover identity and the woman from her dreams fades away. Emma Roux is nothing like Sarah Walker. Emma is more glamorous than Sarah. She has a much nicer job than Sarah Walker ever had. She wears more make-up. She speaks with a slight French accent.

The final step of the transformation into Emma Roux involves changing the color of her eyes. The contacts she places in her eyes changes them from their natural brilliant blue hue to a striking green. When she looks in the mirror, she doesn't recognize her own reflection. She looks so different from her usual self, her Sarah Walker self. Her own father wouldn't even know her. No one would.

Before leaving the room, she closes her eyes and the image of the man from her dreams appears. The barest of smiles graces her face. She holds onto the image and every moment from her dream floods her mind and fills her heart. For a moment, she lets herself remember. But then she opens her eyes as she says her final goodbye to him.

He will be forgotten until he visits her once again in her dreams when she falls asleep tonight. She looks forward to that. But until then, all thoughts of Chuck are eradicated from her system.

All thoughts and traces of her former life gone and forgotten, she is now ready to begin day 562 without him. When the door closes behind her, she's Emma Roux, and Sarah Walker is dead.

* * *


	5. Entry Three

* * *

_Entry Three_

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Steve Lombardozzi had been fourth in his class at UCLA medical school, and had secured a position at one of the finest teaching hospitals in southern California. He'd arrived for his first day as a doctor as a cocky kid who was quite sure he would kick ass and take names throughout the world of medicine.

Three weeks of residency had knocked almost all of that confidence out of him. He'd been far more dependent on the attending physicians – and the nurses – than he'd expected. And if his assessment of the patient he'd just admitted was accurate, he was about to go to them for help again. He scanned the hall, searching for and finding the chief attending for today's midnight ER shift. Her name was technically Dr. Woodcomb, but since her husband also worked at this hospital, everyone still referred to her by her maiden name to avoid confusion.

"Dr. Bartowski?"

"Yes?" The brunette turned to face him, and Steve noted that she looked downright exhausted, despite the fact that she'd just come on shift. "What is it, Steve?"

"Would you mind taking a look at this patient?" he asked timidly.

"Of course." She allowed Steve to lead her into the room and quickly examined the injured man. "Looks like he's been beaten pretty severely. No obvious broken bones, but we could be looking at some internal injuries. Mugging, maybe?"

"He doesn't have a wallet on him, so that seems like a good bet."

Dr. Bartowski nodded. "Let's get him an abdominal CT to check for organ damage. You know how to work the machine?" Steve shook his head. "Well, since we're running without a radiologist tonight, it looks like we've got a learning opportunity on our hands. I took a radiology rotation, so we should be able to figure it out between us." They wheeled the patient into the scanner, and Steve watched as the older physician prepared for the procedure with an efficiency that belied her lack of recent experience.

Both doctors stared at the screen as the scan was completed. "See it?" Dr. Bartowski asked encouragingly.

"Is that… looks like a ruptured spleen," Steve attempted.

"Very good," she replied with a dazzling smile. "Looks like a bad one – we'd better get him into surgery pretty quickly. Who's here tonight?"

"Patterson, I think, and Banks. I'll go try to run one of them down," he offered before jogging down to the nurses' station. "Anyone know where I could find a surgeon?"

"They're both busy – working both ends of a head-on collision. Looks like a nasty one, probably be a couple hours before either one is available."

"Thanks," he responded abruptly without actually looking to see which nurse had spoken. "Who's on call?"

"Grigsby. He should be here in about 45 minutes if you need him."

"The patient doesn't have 30," Dr. Bartowski announced glumly as she emerged into the hall. She leaned heavily against the counter, with her eyes appearing to go slightly out of focus for a moment before snapping back with a determined glint. Pulling Steve aside, she fixed him with a demanding stare. "You've already played radiologist tonight, Dr. Lombardozzi. How would you like to add trauma surgeon to your résumé?"

He blinked confusedly. "Did you do a rotation in that too?"

"No," she admitted. "But it's the only chance our patient has. Get an OR prepped."

Steve grabbed a nurse and took off down the hall. The nurse was just as skeptical as he was, but she seemed to place a considerable amount of trust in Dr. Bartowski, which Steve found comforting. As they scrambled to assemble the right collection of instruments for the procedure, the brunette physician came into view and began to scrub.

The next 15 minutes were permanently burned into Steve's memory, despite the fact that he would have found them utterly unbelievable if he didn't have access to the video of the procedure. Dr. Bartowski walked calmly into the room, asked for a scalpel, and operated as if she'd been placed on Earth for the sole purpose of performing perfect splenectomies. Steve barely managed to avoid compromising the sterility of the room by pinching himself. The only thing that kept him from completely losing it was the fact that the nurse appeared to be reacting identically, which established to his satisfaction that it was the situation, and not Steve himself, that was completely insane.

"Nurse Robertson, will you close?" Seeing the other woman's amazed nod, Dr. Bartowski backed calmly out of the room, ditched her mask and gown, and plopped heavily down on the floor. She leaned her head back against the wall, fished her cell phone out of one of her pockets, and dialed. Steve emerged from the surgical ward, intending to congratulate her, but ducked back out of sight to keep from interrupting her call.

"Sarah? You know how we were having trouble deciding how to test the… yeah, that. I think it works."

-

_Forty-two hours earlier_

Ellie Woodcomb hummed quietly as she pulled the morning's third completed pastry out of the Belgian waffle iron. Devon would be home in another twenty minutes or so, and she always liked to have breakfast ready for him when he got back from a night shift. She refilled the ladle with batter and was lifting it toward the waffle maker when she was startled by a knock at the door.

"Just a minute!" she called out, wondering who on Earth would be visiting at 7:45 on a Saturday morning. Emptying the ladle back into the mixing bowl and unplugging the cooking device, she walked to the door and discovered Sarah Walker on the other side. Ellie had never seen her brother's girlfriend looking quite so unkempt – her hair was clearly untouched since she'd woken up, her clothes were poorly-matched and wrinkled, and her eyes held an odd combination of sleepiness and panic. "What's up, Sarah?" she asked curiously.

"Have you seen Chuck?" Sarah asked in reply, a frantic tone creeping into her voice.

"Not since last night. I thought you guys were going out."

"We were… I mean, we did. He was gone when I woke up this morning, but he'd left a note saying he was picking up breakfast."

Ellie smiled at the news that her brother had spent the night with Sarah, which was becoming an increasingly frequent occurrence. "I'm sure he'll be back soon, sweetie. It's still early."

"I woke up at 6:30, and waited an hour. He usually just goes to the donut shop down the street from my place…"

"Well, maybe he just wanted to wait a while before coming back so he wouldn't wake you up," Ellie offered comfortingly.

"Yeah, maybe…" Sarah trailed off distractedly. "Thanks, Ellie. You're probably right. I should head back home and wait for him." She forced a smile and closed the door.

As she thought over the conversation, Ellie's face creased into a confused frown. Why hadn't Sarah just called Chuck and asked where he was? She quickly opened the door, hoping to catch the blonde before she left the courtyard of the complex – and saw a woman with golden hair disappearing into John Casey's apartment. Which made no sense at all.

She decided to investigate further. Stealing across to Casey's front door, she pressed her ear to it and caught muffled hints conversation.

"… watch at the donut shop, along with his keys and his phone," Sarah was saying. "Morgan and Ellie don't know where he is. You got anything?"

"Herder still shows up in the parking lot of your hotel. Is that right?" Casey seemed to wait for Sarah to confirm that before continuing. "The NSA is pulling the feeds from the traffic cameras from the intersections around the shop. We should have those… now, apparently," he finished as his computer emitted a 'new email' chime. "Let's take a look."

Ellie listened intently, but heard nothing for several minutes. The silence was finally interrupted by a squeak from Sarah, followed by an almost pleading "Casey…"

"That's him all right, Walker. We'll run the goons through facial recognition and see if we can't figure out who's got Bartowski."

Ellie's eyes widened in fright. Somebody had Chuck? Why would someone take Chuck? And why were his girlfriend and neighbor looking for him instead of the police? Desperate to find out more about what was suddenly an extremely confusing situation, she turned the doorknob as quietly as she could manage. Surprised to find it unlocked, she slipped into the apartment.

The door shut with a click that seemed to be amplified considerably by the silence of the apartment. Ellie winced, shutting her eyes in a childlike attempt to hide. When she opened them again, she found herself looking into the faces of two very surprised people – and down the barrels of two handguns. She could manage no reaction beyond staring in silent terror at the scene before her. Neither of the other two occupants of the room seemed interested in speaking either.

"Ellie?" Sarah finally managed to croak. "What are you doing in here?"

That hesitant question proved to be the Dutch boy removing his finger from the dam.

"What am _I_ doing in here?" Ellie asked incredulously. "You said you were going home, Sarah… what are _you_ doing in John's apartment? What are you doing with a _gun_? And where is my brother?"

Sarah and Casey exchanged helpless glances. The blonde was once again the one to break the silence. "Maybe you should sit down, Ellie." The elder Bartowski complied reluctantly. "Chuck… he works with us. For the government."

"The government? You serve yogurt, Sarah."

"That's a cover. I really work for the, uhh, CIA." Seeing the look of utter disbelief on Ellie's face, she pulled out her wallet and displayed her ID card.

"A cover? Wait, you and Chuck… is that a cover too?"

Sarah smiled. "Not since your wedding. Before that, it was."

Casey grunted. "I knew it!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "What exactly did you think we were doing on all of those 'cover' sleepovers at my place, Colonel?"

"Can we get back to the point here?" Ellie demanded impatiently. "So, you two work for the CIA…"

Casey interjected with a snort of disgust. "I'm NSA."

"Whatever," Ellie said irritably. "And Chuck works with you, doing something I'm sure you can't tell me about. And you found a traffic video of him getting kidnapped this morning."

Both agents started to speak, then stopped abruptly as they realized just how much of their conversation Ellie had heard.

"So who has him, and where are they taking him?" the brunette reiterated.

Her question was answered as Casey's computer beeped again. "That thing has spot-on timing this morning," he commented drolly. "No hits from the NSA's big photo album."

"Which means we don't know who has him, Ellie," Sarah explained. "But we'll find out, and we'll get him back."

"Not to rain on your encouraging parade here, Walker, but how exactly are we going to do that? Usually, in this situation, we'd just show the pictures to… Bartowski." He trailed off at the end of his sentence, staring thoughtfully at Ellie.

As understanding washed over Sarah's face, her eyes lit up with alarm. "No, John. Not a chance."

"Guys?" Ellie asked, hoping for an explanation.

"Walker, we have to find him," Casey said gently.

"Not like this," she objected stubbornly. "We don't even know if it would work."

"Guys?"

"You said yourself that his dad had one," Casey pointed out. "Maybe it's genetic."

"And maybe the government has already put this family through enough," Sarah replied harshly.

"Guys!" Ellie finally had their attention. "What are you talking about?"

Casey jumped in before Sarah could respond. "You may be able to help us find your brother."

"But it's dangerous," Sarah added quickly. "And there's a very good chance it won't work."

"But it might work?" Ellie queried. Casey's decisive nod was supplemented by a reluctant one from Sarah. "Then I'm in."

* * *


	6. Entry Four

* * *

_Entry Four_

-

Sarah sighed. Everything had changed. She used to be Chuck's protector, his guardian. Now what was she? He could protect himself, that little show in the Intersect room had shown that much. He had saved _them_. All by himself. It was hard for Sarah to absorb. She would shamefully admit it stung her ego a bit, she was so used to a bumbling, innocent Chuck...she wasn't sure how much longer he could keep that innocence. Maybe it was already gone. Maybe Sarah's personal mission to keep Chuck Bartowski untainted by the spy life had failed miserably.

Whatever had happened. Chuck was his own protector now.

Sarah sunk onto her bed, they were in a CIA compound for now, Chuck was too dangerous to be on his own. A mental image of Chuck and Sarah together, just like the pictures that filled her small room, came to her mind. So real, but so fake. Now with this Intersect...they'd remain _fake_. Their relationship would remain a cover. It was simply too dangerous for them to be together now.

Sarah realized exactly what moment it was that Chuck flashed. The Ring agent had raised his gun in her face, and then Chuck was flashing. If Chuck flashed based on her being in danger, God knew what would happen if they were even closer than they currently were. She couldn't let herself falter any longer. Chuck had chosen the Intersect over her, maybe to impress her, maybe to fill some misguided sense of duty. Whatever the reason...they could no longer be. Thanks to Chuck.

The blonde set her jaw. She would not give in anymore. Chuck was going to be a _real _spy now; Sarah needed to step up, stop playing around and be finally be a _real _spy with Chuck. No more games.

A knock sounded at Sarah's door, and she slowly rose to open the door carefully. _Chuck. _The sight of the man made Sarah's heart ache. He probably didn't realize that they had to go back to their former relationship. Barstow wouldn't be happening again anytime soon.

Sarah stared at Chuck cautiously. She cleared her throat, refusing to return the wide grin that Chuck was giving her now. "Yes, Chuck?" Her voice barely escaped her throat. This was one of the few times she wanted Chuck to just go away.

He didn't seem to notice what Sarah was trying to convey with her body language. The door half open, her foot blocking the entrance, her lack of a smile, the way her eyes seemed cautious. All these screamed "_go away"_. But no, for Chuck to notice, that would be a crime.

Sarah inwardly sighed in an attempt to escape her frustration.

"Sarah," Chuck started. "I was wondering if you wanted to -"

"No, Chuck," Sarah cut him off. She had to stop him, had to make him realize that they couldn't go back to more than asset/handler, even though, with the new Intersect, Sarah wouldn't be his handler for much longer. "No," she repeated. "We can't be anything but professional here. With this new Intersect, your life is in even more danger now....No."

Chuck's face fell, and he seemed to finally get the hint. "Oh." That was all he said as he started to turn. "See you later, then."

"Bye, Chuck." Sarah said, closing the door. She needed to go work out, relieve this stress.

Not for the first time, Sarah cursed the CIA. First, they took her. Now, they were taking away her Chuck. _Her _Chuck.

Not for the first time, Sarah cursed herself, for treating Chuck so badly. He really didn't understand. How was that his fault?

She reopened her door, "Chuck," she called. He stopped and turned, his face a mixture of hope and worry.

"Chuck," Sarah started again. "I'm sorry." It was the only thing she could really say. She looked at him apologetically, hoping he could understand.

Chuck nodded, giving Sarah a sad little smile. "I understand, Sarah. But, one day...one day you and I _will _be together."

Sarah nodded, in agreement. The confirmation from her caused Chuck's eyes to brighten just a bit.

"Save ya later," Sarah spoke, almost in a whisper, and turned back into her room. As she shut the door, his words rang in her head.

_You and I _will_ be together. _

That was all the hope she needed.

* * *


	7. Entry Five

* * *

_Entry Five_

_-_

She drove. She had no clear destination, and just this once, it felt good. _God, when was the last time I just _wandered_?_ she reflected. _Always running _to _something, or _away_..._

Streetlights faded in her rear view as civilization was left behind. Her hands on the wheel were sure as they turned and twisted, and she abandoned herself to her subconscious navigator. Soon enough the smell of salt and sea air slowed her. _Should've known. _She parked with a shaky sigh, raking a hand through her hair.

She popped her trunk and grabbed a blanket and bottle of wine from its depths. _Definitely should've known. Especially when I got it in my head to bring a bottle with me. _She slammed the trunk shut, leaning on it a second longer than she needed. _Do I really want to do this to myself? _With another sigh – _Why the hell not? I'm already a mess, and a moron --_ she wound her way down to the beach.

She found the spot, a little nook in the dunes, and laid down the blanket. She made quick work of opening the bottleand took a grateful swig as she sat.

_What the hell am I doing _here_, of all places, tonight?_ She watched the waves crashing, listened to the sea, let the rhythm seep into her soul. Time bled away as she tried to make sense of her chaotic thoughts. _Deep breath, Walker. In through your nose, out through your mouth. _She took another deep draw from the bottle. _Send it all out to sea._ It was cathedral-quiet around her, no lovers murmuring to each other under the velvet of night. _Thank God. _She tipped her head back, eyes falling shut as moonlight bathed her face. _Guessing it's too late to wish upon a star, huh? _She opened her eyes with a disgusted sigh and took another drink.

_Oh hell. _He stood frozen with his hands in his pockets, looking down from the top of the dune. _Great, just...great. _Blond hair and porcelain skin reflected moonlight, setting his pulse racing. He lifted his eyes to the heavens plaintively. _Really? Can I not catch a break at _all_? _He closed his eyes and shook his head. _Never should've come here. Should've known better. _He turned back towards the parking lot.

"Unless you have another bottle of wine in the car, you may as well just come down here," her voice drifted up. _Figures he'd have to turn up, right? _She gestured to the expanse of blanket beside her.

_Damn it. _"I, uh...I was just going to..."

"Run away?" she questioned. _Back to _her. _Leaving me alone again. _

He didn't turn as he replied. "Wouldn't you be the expert on that, Agent Walker? Running away from me, running to Bryce, and Cole, and now _him." And damn you to hell for it._

She squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden clenching of her heart. _God, Chuck, like I don't know I screwed it all up? _"Chuck, I-"

"And where is Shaw tonight, huh? Shouldn't you be having extremely athletic sex right now?" The bitterness in his voice shocked him, but the apology stuck in his throat. _He gets to kiss you, hold you, he gets…what _I _should've had, what you made me believe you wanted for us…_

"We -"

He gritted his teeth, pressing his hands against his closed eyes. "You know what? Don't answer that. This is stupid. I'm with Hannah, and damn it, she will never be you, Sarah, and I _know _that, but she's _there. _She's _real. _I don't know if I ever really knew you at all, not anymore. I _thought _I did. Maybe you're just that damn good. But whether I'm a mark or whether you're lying to yourself, I deserve to be _happy_. And this is the closest I've gotten to that in a _long _time. The closest I've gotten that wasn't interrupted by the Ring, or the government, or your insecurities. So I'll leave you to moon over the latest Bryce look-alike to cross your path and take myself home," he spat. _Why the hell do I care anymore..._

Sarah recoiled as if slapped, tears springing to her eyes. _How the hell did we get here? _"Chuck..." she called weakly. _Damn it. _She heard a muffled curse and looked behind her, finding him still framed by moonlight. "Chuck?"

_Damn it all to hell. _Still facing the parking lot, he spoke. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he said quietly, looking to the sky again. "It's just..." _I love you. I want you. I hate you. I _hurt_, damn it and I want you to hurt too. And you're here, in our place, and..._

_Oh God, Chuck, I know..._She looked up at his silhouette, and the slump of his shoulders, the obvious pain, tore at her. "Sit with me?" she asked softly. _Don't hate me that much, that being near me is unbearable... _"Please?"

Still he wouldn't turn. "Why?" he asked. _Why would I torture myself? You're not mine, you can't be, and I'm not yours. Not anymore._

_Because I love you. _The answer sprung to mind with crystal clarity, so sharp that the tears she'd been holding spilled over. "Because I don't want to be alone," she lied.

_Wrong answer. _"I shouldn't even have asked," he laughed bitterly. Chuck turned and met her eyes for the first time. _Is she...crying? _The reprimand died on his lips. "Sarah?"

"I..." She swiped at her eyes. _Damn it, get a grip. Just tell him. _"Shaw and I..."

Chuck shook his head. _You're a sucker, Bartowski. You have a girl who cares about you -- a _real girl -- _and you're still on the Walker Roller Coaster. _He looked at her, tears in her eyes, bottle in her fist, moonlight shining, and shook his head again. "I can't, Sarah. It's not fair to Hannah, and it's not fair to me." He turned and walked away.

"I made a mistake!" she blurted desperately. _I ruined everything. Any chance we had. Anything we could've been._ She buried her head in her hands. "I made a mistake, I left him," she whispered.

She heard the car door slam. _Come back...please.._

Time froze. Then the car started, and drove away.

-

She sat, arms wrapped around her knees. _You're an absolute idiot, Walker. You had everything -- _everything -- _in reach and you threw it away. He _loved _you. _"But I don't _deserve _it," she protested to the ocean. "I never have."

He _thought you did. He wanted to love you. It's all he wanted. And you wouldn't let yourself love him back. Idiot. _Sarah cast her gaze out to the ocean again, white-crested waves unrelenting. _But he hates me now. How do I fix that? _Her father's voice murmured in her memory. "That's why we're called confidence men, darlin', because we exude confidence, we _are _confidence. We know, without a doubt, there's nothing we can't do, can't get, if we want it badly enough."

_Well, if ever I needed to believe that..._She thought of the look on his face, in his eyes, how defeated he looked..._God, I really have to fix this. _She blew out a breath, and looked down at the bottle she'd stuck into the sand. _Offering to the gods? _she thought with a wry smile. She upended it, closing her eyes as wine drained into the sand. _Let me be able to fix this, _she prayed.

Chuck squeezed the steering wheel as he fled. _Can't I have one place, just _one, _where Sarah doesn't haunt me? A minute of peace to try to figure out what I want? _Her voice echoed in his head, pleading with him to turn around. _Yeah, you definitely made a mistake, Sarah, and so did I. You couldn't be honest with me...and I still care._

"Oh, God, what am I _doing?_" Chuck slammed his hands on the wheel in frustration. _I'm lecturing Sarah about being fair, when _I'm _being just as callous with Hannah._ He sighed. "Damn it." _Don't be an idiot. Sarah will never get there, and you know it. You _know _it. It was _right there, _and she threw it away. What are you waiting for?_ He took a deep breath, let it out heavily. _Forget it, just go home. See how you feel in the morning._ He drove back to his apartment on autopilot.

As he closed the door behind him, Chuck sighed, massaging his temples. _It's times like these I'm glad I moved out, even if it's three doors. _He dropped his keys on the sideboard and went back to the bedroom_. _He flopped on the bed fully dressed, kicked off his shoes and closed his eyes, willing sleep to claim him.

She broke every speed limit. _I have to be able to fix this. I _have _to. _She ignored her roiling stomach, refused to acknowledge the nausea threatening. _I _will _fix this. I _will_. I made a mistake. I'll explain, and ask him to forgive me, and wait if I have to. But I...I can't...he has to know, he _deserves_ to know how I feel._

Echo Park appeared, looming like the maws of hell. _Maybe I _shouldn't _have sped? _She swallowed hard as she parked, praying Ellie, Awesome, and Casey were safely away from the windows. _If they see me, I'm _dead. She took a deep breath and left the car.

From his apartment, Casey heard her car alarm beep. _About damn time_, he smirked. He lifted his snifter of brandy in silent salute as blonde tresses flew past the windows.

She stopped as she reached out to knock on his door, deflated. _What if...what if I'm too late? _Uncertainty stilled her hand.

Laughter and the clack of heels poured into the courtyard as Sarah stood frozen. _Oh no. Please tell me the Fates aren't _that _cruel..._She closed her eyes, refusing to turn around. As the footsteps faded to silence, she knew she was caught.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing here," Ellie ground out.

Chuck groaned. _Why can't I just sleep? Is that too much to ask? A little mindlessness? _He sat up, rubbing his eyes. _Fine, if I can't sleep, let me be productive at least. Some tai chi, maybe some capoeira..._He moved to the living room and paused. _Was that knocking? _He peered out the window and stood quietly, listening.

_You have some _serious _nerve. _Ellie glared murderously at Sarah's back."You have about ten seconds before I call the police." Devon laid a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off. _I'll be damned if I let her hurt him any more._

Sarah clenched her fists, fingernails biting into her palms. "I...I need to..." _I have to try, I have to fix it._

"You need to tell me the _truth, _is what you need to do. Why the hell are you here? Haven't you done enough?" Devon squeezed her shoulder again, refusing to be shrugged off. Ellie took a deep breath. _And why shouldn't I kick your ass?_

"I..." Sarah pressed a hand to the door, trying to draw strength from the oak as she turned to Ellie's furious gaze. "I..." _Oh God. _Tears welled and spilled, beyond her control. _I'm broken, and screwed up, and the only person in the world who can make me feel whole and safe is on the other side of this door._

"You should've told him that to begin with, Sarah, not run to someone else. I'm not buying." _That's _love_, you idiot, but you couldn't recognize it when it counted._

Sarah's eyes widened. _Oh crap. I said that out loud? _"I know," she whispered. "I screwed up royally. Chuck...Ellie, he...he _scares _me. He's so...loyal, and loving, caring, giving, and I...I don't know if I have it in me to give that back to him, and I know he deserves that. I _know _he does." Sarah dropped her gaze to the ground. "I've just seen…I'm just not…I'm going to..." _Hurt him. Oh God. It's the only thing I've ever done. _She took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around herself. _He doesn't deserve any more hurt. And she can make him happy, he said so. _She glanced behind her at the closed door. "Just don't tell him I was here," she said hoarsely as she took a step away from his door.

"You're _unbelievable_, you know that?" Ellie glanced behind Sarah and glared at the shadow in the blinds. _Don't you dare open that door!_ "You give me that big speech about all the things Chuck is, what he deserves, and you give up. Well good riddance to you, Sarah. Good riddance." Ellie threw her hands in the air. "Don't you get it? At no point, _not once, _in this whole damn mess have you given _him _the choice_._ Good riddance to you, if you can't understand that this involves more than just _you_. Are you _that _oblivious? My God, Sarah, you think my brother falls in and out of love that easily? You're either here to fight for him or not. Pick one, and _do it_." She spun on her heel and stalked into her apartment.

Sarah buried her face in her hands. _How the hell do I always screw it up at the last second? _

"She's right, you know," Devon offered quietly. "You can't do this to him anymore, Sarah. You were awesome together when everything was clicking. Whatever changed, and I'm gonna guess it has to do with the whole," he looked around, lowering his voice, "spy thing," raising it again to continue, "you broke his heart. I mean, I saw him. Not awesome. And then you're with someone else? _Totally _not awesome." He sighed. "Look, I know you and the Chuckster were supposed to be all make-believe, but I like to think I see things the way they are." He nodded towards the door. "Knock, if you're ready to be honest, and risk him slamming the door in your face. But if you're not, walk away, Sarah, and don't come back."

She opened her mouth to respond, but Devon only shook his head. "There are no guarantees in life, Sarah. We both know it, better than most. You just have to figure out what's worth the risk, and what's not. If he really makes you feel like you say, that's awesome. But make sure he makes you feel that way because you _love _him. Anything less, you can get the same from a good therapist." He turned and followed Ellie into the apartment, quietly shutting the door.

_So what are you willing to risk, huh? No one else is going to make you feel the way he does, and you know it. So what's it worth? _She turned...

...and saw the door was already opened. Silhouetted in the low light of the apartment, he'd never looked more perfect.

_Did I really just hear all that? _Chuck looked at her tear-stained face and his heart started to pound.

_Oh God. _"I...um...I...." She took a breath. _Try using your words, Walker. _"How long have you been there?" she whispered.

He licked his lips. "Depends on whether you meant what you said." _Because if you're lying, I want to forget I ever heard that._

_Put up or shut up. _"I..." She blew out a breath and looked up at him. _Truth, Sarah._ "Every word," she confessed.

Chuck closed his eyes. _Don't freak out. _Opening them, he stood aside to let her in.

She took a deep breath as she entered. _Okay, you're in. Don't screw it up again..._She looked up into his expectant gaze. "Chuck...I owe you an apology. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I made you doubt yourself. And most of all, I'm sorry that I'm…a coward." _Now the hard part..._"I, um...Chuck, I broke it off with Shaw tonight," she said softly. "You were right, I _was _running. I was scared." _God, I feel lighter saying that out loud..._"Tonight, at the beach, I was trying to figure out what to do about...well, about _you_. About us. If..." She swallowed hard. "If there could still _be_ an us..."

He swallowed. "That's...that's..." He walked back to the kitchen. _I need to do something normal, or else I'm gonna lose my mind. _"Want anything?" he asked, leaning over the refrigerator door looking at its contents.

She smiled and shook her head as she followed him into the kitchen. _How could I be so stupid? So blind? _

She reached under him and closed the door, forcing him to straighten tantalizingly close to her. She looked him straight in the eye as she answered, certainty making her voice strong.

"Just you."

"Sarah -"

"Just you, Chuck. Just you. And I know I screwed up. I'll wait. You're worth it. And if Hannah can make you happy like I can't..." _God I hope not..._"Then I brought it on myself, and I'll have to live with that." She swallowed. "But I'm here, and I'm willing to try."

Chuck took a step away, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "Why? Why now?" _Just when I gave up on you._

"Being with Shaw...it was like, I was with a mark. I wasn't real, _we _weren't real. We were...convenient. And...I know no one could ever make me feel as real as I feel when I'm with you," she quietly confessed. "I want to be a real girl, Chuck. And I want that with you."

_Wow. _"I...Sarah, I have to honest. I don't know how I feel." _Liar._ _Can't make it too easy, though. _"But I can tell you this..."He took her hand in his, marveling at the thrill such a simple touch from her still sent through him, and smiled. "It's a start."

* * *


	8. Entry Six

_

* * *

_

_Entry Six_

_-_

_**The First Beer...**_

"The little shit did it to me AGAIN," the beautiful blond bemoaned.

She sat in the booth of the small crappy corner bar, brooding over a Budweiser. She looked positively pathetic in her yellow and green Subway garb.

Her gruff companion, dressed in Buy More barb, grunted as he lifted his scotch.

"The boy does appear to have a type. How he bags so many hotties, I'll never understand."

_-If you don't already know, I can't make you understand-_ Sarah thought, but didn't verbalize.

"God, you're pathetic," John Casey snorted. "Look at you. Lovelorn for the geek."

"I'm not lovelorn," Sarah Walker defended. "He's just...inconsiderate in regards to our cover."

If Casey were a lesser man, he'd have choked on his scotch as he laughed. But this was damn good scotch, and it wouldn't do to waste it. Making an obscene comment…well, that was fair game.

"My well toned ass. Big, bad CIA chick's panties are in a bunch because her geek has wondering eyes. And hands, judging from last night's surveillance."

Sarah's glare would frighten a lesser man. But he'd been in relationships with female agents before, and Walker was nothing unique. He could needle her just a bit more before she could possibly become violent.

"For a guy who doesn't work out much, the boy's got surprising…stamina."

Okay, the needle just hit "Knock it off before I castrate you".

"C'mon, the chick ain't all bad. At least this one isn't Fulcrum."

"So you say. By the way, did you get that report I asked for?"

"You mean her high school transcripts? Yeah, they're in the Vic. Spoiler alert: she sucked at Calculus. Didn't stop her from being Prom Queen though."

Sarah shuddered in silent fury. "I wonder who she slept with or killed to get it."

"Riiiiight. You're not jealous at all."

Sarah's response was to tip back her beer and finish it in one long, graceful gulp. Casey was actually impressed, especially when Sarah belched and promptly ordered a second bottle.

"You're driving," she clarified.

Casey grunted in reply.

-

_**After Three Beers...**_

Very slowly and carefully, Sarah brushed a strand of blond hair from her eyes. Beer in hand, she delicately pointed at Casey. Lips pursed, about to speak, she frowned. She lost her train of thought.

"Okay, where was I?" she asked.

"She's a bitch," Casey supplied.

"Right!" Sarah cried, sloshing a little beer. "I mean, seriously, they met on an airplane. It's a doomed relationship from the start. I know for a fact. Do you know how many stewardesses I've picked up over the years?"

Casey straightened in his seat, intrigued. "No, but feel free to tell."

But Sarah was already moving to her next point. "And have you seen her hair?" she scoffed. "I've seen better styles on a poodle's ass."

"I think it's kinda cute in a boyish way," Casey offered.

"And her teeth…" She fixed Casey with a pathetic look. "I wore braces until I was 20."

Judging from Sarah's reaction, Casey did an excellent job of stifling his laugh.

-

_**After Six Beers...**_

Head in hand, propped up on an elbow, Sarah took a long, slow drink. A strand of hair fell in her eyes and she attempted to blow it away. It came out a funny sounding "Pfft!" and sprayed a bit of saliva and beer in Casey's direction. She finally pushed it away manually, which greatly annoyed her.

"I'll cut you off later," she warned the errant strand. A perplexed look graced her face as she turned back to Casey. "What was I saying?"

"Maybe she's not such a bitch."

"Right!" Sarah cried out, then hiccupped. "Chuck deserves to find happiness with a nice girl. I mean, Hannah's smart. She went to Columbus for God's sake."

"Columbia."

"That's what I said. And she really is kinda pretty," Sarah said enviously. "I'd love to have her skin tone. And she does have a pretty smile." A strange little smirk appeared on her own face. A few moments later, Sarah said, "I can totally see what he sees in her. I mean, he does have great taste in women. Hannah's beautiful and charming. So was Lou, for that matter. And Jill…"

Sarah glanced around, seeing if anyone was eavesdropping. She then leaned across the table, indicating Casey to do the same. She whispered, "Casey, can I tell you something in confidence? Just between us?"

"Sure," he said, anticipating this revelation.

"I know that bitch Jill tried to kill me, but objectively speaking, if I met that girl in a bar…" She leaned in until she was whispering right into Casey's ear. "…I would wreck that ass."

Casey snapped around, staring at Sarah. His companion merely giggled drunkenly and nodded. "I mean positively _wreck_ it. Full on 'Slam-Bam-Thank You-Ma'am'." She drained her beer as Casey gaped in astonishment. Sarah belched again and added, "That goes for Lou and Hannah, too."

She snapped her fingers at the waitress, indicating her desire for another beer.

"And probably his sister."

Casey gagged on his scotch.

-

_**After Eight Beers...And Two Shots Of Wild Turkey**_

The conversation had taken a decidedly not-so-fun turn. Casey sipped his scotch and Sarah bawled into her hands. When she looked back up, Sarah's mascara was running. Casey grimaced and offered her a cocktail napkin.

A waitress walked by, observing the scene. "Is your girlfriend okay, sir?"

If looks could kill, the waitress would be dead. "She isn't my girlfriend," he said bluntly. The admission only seemed to send Sarah into another fit.

As the waitress walked away – and Sarah suitably recovered – she fixed Casey with bloodshot eyes. "Is it me?" she whimpered. "Is there something about me that people can't love?"

Casey shifted uncomfortably. Sarah pressed on.

"Why is it that every man I care about leaves me? First my daddy, then Bryce, then Chuck." She suddenly reached across the table and cupped Casey's hands. He puckered tighter than a snare drum. "Casey, is it because I'm not…pretty?"

Casey cleared his throat nervously. "You're very…pretty." Sarah broke into a relieved grin but continued to cry. "But it Geek Boy's defense, you have been making moon-eyes at Agent Clark Kent lately. And Barker before that. And Larkin before that. It gives the boy an impression."

"I know…I know," Sarah weeped. "But dammit! Doesn't he know they're just eye candy? Does he really think the past two years have meant nothing to me?" Her mood shifted drastically again as she once more clutched his hands. "Casey…promise you'll never leave me. You're like the big brother I always wanted."

Casey hastily extricated his hands from her grasp. "And you're like the little sister I would have played 'hide and seek' with and never tried to seek."

Sarah half laughed and cried. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me."

-

_**Twenty Minutes Later...At Walgreen's**_

Casey stood by uncomfortably as Sarah tried to decide. In one hand, a box of Clairol blond hair dye – her usual dye, he suspected. In the other, a box of Clairol brunette hair dye. He tried to keep far enough distance so no one would suspect he was with the girl crying as she checked hair supplies, but close enough to keep her from doing anything stupid.

"Look at that," he said, checking a nearby display stand. "Halloween themed PEZ dispensers. They got little vampire PEZ's."

A moment later, Sarah shuffled up to him, head down, looking absolutely pathetic. She still had both boxes of hair dye in hand. "Casey," she whimpered, "I want to get both, but I forgot my wallet at home."

She then stumbled, catching herself on the shelf of Herbal Essences shampoos. She couldn't quite meet Casey's eyes, but the pout was unmistakable.

"Dammit," Casey said. "Fine. But you owe me."

Sarah sniffed and wiped her runny nose on the sleeve of her black Subway hoodie. Casey grimaced and led her to the checkout line.

-

**_In the Crown Vic…Twenty Minutes Later_**

"Walker, gimme the damn phone!"

"No!"

Sarah then proceeded to crawl between the front seats and collapse in back. She crawled towards the passenger side, up against the door, far away from Casey and lightly kicked his right hand as he tried to grab her iPhone while keeping a grip on the steering wheel with his left.

"Walker, you're pissing me off!"

"Tough!" With drunken fingers, she finally managed to finish entering the phone number. A couple rings later, an answering machine picked up.

"Hi! This is Hannah Hart. Please leave your message after the tone."

BEEP!

Sarah held the phone directly before her face. "Bitch! He's my man! You can't have him! To stake my proper claim, I challenge you, madam, to a duel. Pick your weapon of choice and meet me on the Common at dawn! By the way, I hate your hair-- Casey! Gimme back my phone, you sonofabitch! I gotta call my daddy and ask him to love me!"

Finally getting the phone, Casey tucked it into his jacket. "You can have it back when you're sober." He peered at Sarah in the rearview mirror. "Which might be awhile."

Sarah began to turn green. "Casey. Can you stop the car? I gotta upchuck." She started to whimper and cry. "Oh God. I said Chuck."

Casey sighed. "Never shoulda left the Air Force."

-

**_Thirty Minutes Later…Outside a Convenience Store Restroom_**

Sarah exited, looking worn from projectile vomiting. Casey offered her some paper towels he moistened in the water fountain.

"You okay?"

"Oh God. Did I really drunk dial Chuck's girlfriend and leave a pissy message on her answering machine?"

"Mm hmm."

She looked up at Casey, eyes pleading. "Casey…I gotta delete that message."

It took a moment for Casey to process. When he did… "Aw, dammit."

-

**_Thirty Minutes Later…At Hannah's Apartment Complex_**

"Oh God!" Sarah cried, clutching her head.

"You okay?" Casey asked, not really caring.

"No," she said through gritted teeth. "I think I'm sobering up."

They crossed the courtyard of the darkened apartment complex. It was nearly two am, so they didn't expect anyone about. But one never knows…

Sarah produced her lock picks and set to work on the front door of apartment six.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Casey asked.

"I'm drunk, not stupid," Sarah spat back. They then paused a moment to reflect. "Point taken. Look, all it needs is a little jiggle…"

A thirty-something black man and his wife answered the door, bleary eyed. "Are you…trying to break in?" he asked.

Sarah and Casey struggled for a reply, caught like deer in headlights. Finally, Sarah offered, "This isn't Hannah Hart's apartment?"

"She's number five," the wife said, pointing across the courtyard. Both agents followed her finger.

"What are you doing?" the man asked again.

"Uh…booty call," Sarah offered. The couple stared at her, then Casey. Casey simply stared at Sarah. The blond agent offered, "What? You never wake up at two am craving a threesome?"

Casey groaned. The couple shifted nervously, both blushing slightly.

The agents and couple bid each other goodnight. As the agents wandered to apartment five, Casey said: "You know I'm never letting you drink alcohol again, right?"

It took a couple minutes to pick the lock, because as Sarah said, the damn thing wouldn't hold still. But ultimately they entered the small, but stylish apartment.

"Oh God. Can you believe the color of that couch?" Sarah snorted. "My vomit was that color."

"That's a delightful image," Casey sighed.

"Look at this furniture," Sarah continued. "Did she order everything out of the _Yuppies With No Taste Home Journal_? Sit in that chair and tell me it's comfortable."

She pointed to a small black chair tucked against the wall. "I'm not in the mood to sit, Walker. Let's just erase her answering machine…"

"I said sit," she commanded.

Whether it was her tone or facial expression, Casey felt compelled to comply. He sat in the chair and fidgeted a moment before declaring, "You're right. It's uncomfortable."

"See!" she declared, vindicated. "What kind of superficial bimbo buys a chair that's uncomfortable to sit in?"

"An extra-superficial one?" Casey asked when it appeared Sarah was demanding an answer to her rhetorical question.

"Exactly!" After her cry of triumph, Sarah proceeded to scratch her belly and look around. "I wonder if she's got any beer in the fridge. And maybe pretzels. I'm craving something salty."

As she moved towards the kitchen, Casey's voice stopped her. "Hey! Forget the beer. Just erase the answering machine."

Sarah stared blankly. "Huh?" It took a few moments for his strange words to process. "Oh! The answering machine!"

Sarah stumbled to the kitchen counter and found the device. Instead of simply pressing 'Delete', she grabbed the machine, hoisted it up, and then slammed it into the counter, shattering it to pieces. After which, Casey stared in disbelief as she went to the fridge, found a bottle of red wine and bag of mini Twix candy bars, and then walked by him, declaring, "Wine and chocolate will do fine. Let's roll."

Casey ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I should ask for a transfer," he decided before following.

-

_**The Next Morning...And A Very Potent Hangover Later**_

"Sod off or die!" Sarah yelled at the pounding at her hotel room door.

The pounding stopped, but not the way she anticipated. She heard the door swing open and footsteps approach the bed. Instinctively, her hand reached beneath her pillow….

The blade didn't even come close to hitting Chuck, her hangover severely disrupting her aim. For his part, Chuck seemed amused by this.

"Wow. You _really _must not be feeling good. I've never seen your aim so off."

"Chuck, I am so sorry," Sarah apologized.

Chuck waved her off. "It's okay. If I were truly in danger, my new Intersect programming would have gone into self-preservation mode. Deflect that blade with my kung-fu." He proceeded to demonstrate his kung fu, drawing a laugh from her. He sat on the bed next to her. "Which brings me to why I'm here. Are you okay? It's not like you to miss work. Even serving sandwiches."

"Just, uh, a 24-hour flu bug."

"Ah. Well maybe this will make you feel better." From behind his back, Chuck produced a bouquet of gardenias.

A dopey smile appeared on Sarah's face as she accepted the flowers. "Thank you. But aren't you only supposed to give flowers to your _real_ girlfriend?"

Chuck appeared chagrined. "I don't have one anymore." Off Sarah's curious look: "Hannah and I decided to go our separate ways last night."

Sarah managed to not sound too excited as she asked, "Why?"

"I guess…" he fixed Sarah with a steady gaze, "…she just wasn't what I was looking for."

Sarah's breath caught. "I'm sorry," she lied.

"Oh well," he casually said. "It's probably for the best. Though I admit, she did stay at my place last night."

Sarah didn't like that at all. "Why?"

Chuck shook his head in confusion. "It's weird. It took her home, but someone broke into her apartment. But they didn't steal anything besides candy and wine. Oh, and they broke her answering machine."

Sarah buried her head beneath the pillow. "Very strange," was her muffled reply.

Chuck nodded in agreement. "Anyway, I'll let you rest. Call me if you need anything."

Sarah poked her head out to watch Chuck wander into her kitchen. He placed the flowers into a vase of water and then checked her refrigerator. "I'll bring you some soup and yogurt," he promised.

"Thank you," Sarah shyly smiled.

With his own goofy grin, he turned to leave. Before he did, he said, "I like your hair."

Sarah frowned. "Huh?"

"The brunette look. It's an interesting change. Of course, I loved the blond, too."

Chuck didn't see the horror on her face as he left. But before she could summon the energy to go check a mirror, her cell phone rang. Sarah groaned slightly at seeing Casey's face.

"Casey."

"_How ya doin', Walker?"_

"Better, thanks. Look, Casey…"

"_Wild night, huh? It's good to let off steam on occasion."_

Sarah hesitated. Was he…giving her an out? "Yeah, it is."

"_Gotta be honest though. I don't think I wanna drink with you_ every _night_."

"I know. When I drink – a lot, that is – I become…"

"_Pathetic? Weird? Insane?"_

Sarah quirked a brow. "I was gonna say 'A different person', but yeah. Listen, you're not gonna tell Beckman…"

Casey interrupted, like he wasn't even listening. "Hey, you gonna be okay to come into Castle this evening? We still have to file mission reports from the past month."

Sometimes, just sometimes, Casey pleasantly surprised her. "Yeah. Seven o'clock?"

"Fine. Bring Quizno's. I'm tired of Subway."

Just before he could disconnect, Sarah blurted, "Casey? Thanks."

There was a long pause. "What are partners for?" he asked. Then, before abruptly disconnecting, he gruffly reminded, "Don't forget the Quizno's."

With a smile, Sarah tossed her phone aside and curled back in bed. So much bad news lately…maybe things were finally looking up.

Now she just had to dye her hair back to its "natural" color.

THE END

* * *


	9. Entry Seven

* * *

_Entry Seven_

-

Chuck sat in kind of a semi-daze as the General spoke on and on about security, the beta intersect and the implications of his 'mistake', looking as ruffled and incomposed as he'd ever seen her.

Really, he didn't want to be here. His hands were throbbing, his calves and thighs painful when he moved them, his sight blurry and disconnected.

Blearily, he could see Sarah and Casey's outlines in standing in front of him with perfect posture while he slumped over the meeting table on one of the swiveling chairs.

Even without seeing Sarah's expression, he could tell by the tenseness of her spine that she was uneasy about something, the hunch of her shoulders that she was upset, and the way that her fingers kept on twitching unobtrusively behind her back that she was nervous.

"Mr. Bartowski," He heard his name called, his head snapping up as he blinked lethargically, trying to widen his droopy eyes.

"Yeah," He said, unsuccessfully trying to sound like he had been listening for the last twenty minutes.

Casey turned his head an inch, somehow managing to give him a menacing glare from the sliver of his face Chuck could see from his angle.

"Yes," Chuck corrected as he heaved himself upright, "Yes General."

His eyes flickered over to Sarah, but she hadn't moved an inch since the General addressed him, her face directed at the screen.

The general eyed him; her eyebrow raised and wrinkled mouth pursued severely for a moment before she picked up a file in front of her.

"Since the first brief debrief Colonel Casey had reported in just hours before, I have decided to add an extra agent temporarily onto Team Bartowski."

Chuck was suddenly very much interested, "Why?" He asked warily.

Casey grunted, and Chuck shot him a defiant look, "Why _ma'am_?"

"Well, someone needs to be control of this little LA assignment. Somehow the three of you over these two years have managed to get yourself in a lot of trouble."

Chuck could see Casey hook his fingers into his belt out of the corner of his eye.

General Beckman continued, "He will be your trainer."

She paused, and looking past the three of them, nodded, "I see you've made it, Agent Morrison."

Chuck whipped his head around so fast he nearly fell of his chair. In the shadows, there stood a well built man, only an inch lesser in height than even Casey, wearing a crisp suit and a serious expression.

"General Beckman," He acknowledged; his voice smooth and lower than Chuck would have imagined coming from a man who looked like that.

Chuck flashed, seeing voice recognition patterns behind his eyes and pages of information about his new trainer, all high honours and recognitions without one iota of evidence he was rogue.

The flash took more out of him than he was used to, especially after his little Kung Fu exhibition back at the lab.

His lungs were heaving, and he clutched the table edge with his hand tightly to maintain his balance. He could hear a quick shift of clothing behind him, and he wondered whether it was Sarah, waiting to catch him if he did indeed fall.

When he looked up again, Agent Morrison was staring evenly back at him, nothing but a glint of curiosity in his brown eyes.

Chuck's first thought as he regained his composure was, _typical. He even looks like Superman_.

Chuck's second thought, quickly following his first was, _It's another Cole situation._

"I'll leave you to it, then," the general said curtly, the screen blanking out to show the NSA logo.

-

"Vicki Vale, Vick-viv-vicki-vicky Vale," Chuck mumbled as he fiddled with the broken iPhone in front of him, a few mini screwdrivers held in the corner of his lips.

A pound on the counter, a brown hammy hand appearing in front of his face made him jump a little as his mouth opened in surprise, the little metal instruments dropping with a clatter onto the surface of the table.

"Bartowski!" Big Mike said loudly, as if Chuck were deaf, "Show our newest employee the ropes. We wouldn't want her to get a bad impression on her first day by pairing her up with those other clowns in here."

With a sickly smile, Big Mike turned, his bulk obscuring the woman behind him from Chuck's view.

"You'll be safe with Bartowski, unless he somehow manages to do a Lou on you," The manager said, his voice lowered a few notches. With a last warning look at Chuck, he shuffled off towards his office.

Chuck sighed, looking at his charge, now revealed by the big man's departure.

"Woah," He exclaimed, sitting back straight as he stared wide-eyed at the Asian-European looking woman. Chuck stood abruptly, the chair bouncing and clattering with his quick movement, and he barely restrained a pained groan as his muscles cramped.

The brunette smiled, her eyes lighting up as her lips curved into a smile, setting a glow on her tanned skin, "Hi, I'm Hannah."

Chuck stretched out his hand, Bartowski grin in place, "Chuck. Chuck Bartowski."

Her slender hand gripped his with surprising strength before she let go, and Chuck saw her trying to unobtrusively skim it over her Buy More polo.

"I'm sorry," He admitted honestly, "My hand gets kinda moist when I'm nervous."

Hannah smiled demurely again, put at ease by his omission, "It's okay."

Chuck circled the Nerd Herd desk to stand in front of her, reminded horribly of the whole Lou fiasco again when he measured the top of her head against his chest, her height only coming up to the base of his throat, a few inches taller than Lou did, but just as petite.

"So how did you manage to land yourself in a Buy More position?" He asked, grimacing at his use of "Buy More position" as if it were something to be coveted.

She didn't change her open expression at all, "I got fired from my publishing job, I needed money," She said simply.

Chuck felt a little bemused as he nodded, the honesty and friendliness catching him off guard after the events yesterday, and the silence that lay between him and Sarah as he waited for her to speak to him.

Hannah scrutised him for a moment, "And I find it hard to believe that you're working here too."

Chuck shrugged, "I'm from Stanford. Got framed for stealing tests and kicked out dishonourably." His throat tightened up as he bit his lip. It was hard to think of Bryce's actions badly now that he'd gone, dying partly because he had tried to save Chuck from being the next victim of the beta Intersect.

Too bad it had landed on him to take up the responsibility again. Chuck just didn't know what to think. He had done it for Bryce's sacrifice, he had done it because he'd thought it was the right thing to do, the urge also motivated by Sarah's 'hero' comment as they danced. He just hoped Sarah understood. Chuck didn't know, and didn't know whether he would ever know the truth of Bryce's words, that Sarah had decided to stay with him.

Hannah's disbelieving laugh drew him from his ruminations, "Wait," She read his name tag again, "Chuck."

She seemed to think for a while.

"Chuck." She suddenly looked at him, "Chuck Bartowski!" She said loudly, "I remember hearing about that."

Chuck's shoulders slumped, "Yeah," He muttered, "You would have."

Hannah reached up to pat his shoulder, "Yeah I did, because I was in one of your classes!"

"At Stanford?" He stated blankly.

"Yes!" Hannah said, "Subliminal encoding. Professor Fleming's class!"

Chuck frowned, although delighted to meet a fellow Stanford alumnus, "I thought you did publishing?"

Hannah shrugged, "Yeah, I do. Did. I was part of a publishing company that did medical journals, and I wrote. But I got drawn into the upper management, and now I don't put much of the lectures into use, I'm doing more paperwork and watching everyone else's work."

They walked around the Buy More as she explained the nature of her work further to give the impression that Chuck was showing her around.

He was looking at her as they approached the desk again.

"Chuck?"

Hannah looked up first, and Chuck followed her gaze, "Sarah!" Chuck gravitated away from his co-worker as he looked questioningly at his cover girlfriend.

"You missed our lunch." Sarah stated flatly.

Looking at her desperately, Chuck tried to smile, but Sarah wasn't taking any of it. He was about to introduce the two women to each other, but Sarah was already eyeing Hannah's polo and name tag in a somewhat challenging stance.

Chuck let out a nervous laugh, flicking his attention between his two companions.

He felt a hand on his arm, and he glanced down at Hannah questioningly.

"Hey, I think I can handle the easy stuff. I'll cover for you," she said, looking lovely as she smiled, "Go have lunch."

Chuck reached out and grabbed Sarah's cold hand, "Thanks!" He said warmly, "I'll be back soon."

Tugging Sarah along as he gave a brief wave back to Hannah, he felt Sarah slip her hand from his grip. They walked in silence to the Orange Orange, a million questions swimming in Chuck's head.

"Hey Sarah," He said as they passed her car, "Can we talk?"

She glanced at him, "No."

Chuck walked a little faster to block her way, clutching her shoulders to stop her progress, "I think we need to. Bryce's death must be hard for you; he was your lover..."

Sarah cut him off, "He was your best friend too. And you don't seem to be all that cut up about it either."

"Then why," Chuck said as he tried to get direct eye contact with her, "Are you like this? Why won't you talk to me?"

A myriad of fleeting emotions raced across her eyes, but disappeared as fast as they had come, "Because right now," She said, removing his hands and opening the door, "Agent Morrison wants to test the beta Intersect's capabilities."

"Now?" Chuck asked, completely dropping his line of questioning in surprise and a whole lot of trepidation.

Sarah turned, her ponytail almost whipping him in the face as she turned, sending up a bloom of passionfruit-scented shampoo in his direction.

He followed her into the freezer, and watched her scan her retina, urged forward by her "Get in," as she opened the door, entering after him.

-

Chuck buckled over as Agent Morrison powered a well controlled side-kick at his stomach, his posture strong as he tucked his hands in front of himself in a classic kung-fu pose.

"What," Casey snarked as he stood against one of the walls of the training room with Sarah next to him, "Can't do kung-fu anymore?"

Chuck barely had the time to reply to Casey's sarcasm, mimicking his smug and shocked- "Guys, I can do kung-fu" statement yesterday after felling the enemy agents.

He let out a strangled cry as he slammed into the navy mats that covered the whole floor, cradling his spasming thigh, the nerve point that was hit making his leg tremble uncontrollably.

Agent Morrison was a professional, he thought as he watched the other man weigh him up, waiting patiently for Chuck to rise again. He had targeted the parts of Chuck's body that could be easily covered up this whole forty-five minutes. His body would be quite purple tomorrow.

The mat was cool against his cheek, and he wanted to close his eyes, letting his damp curls flop onto his sweaty forehead. Sarah was simply standing there without a word, not an ounce of emotion crossing her face as she watched him get beaten about.

Morrison let out a small sound as he jumped from foot to foot with perfect poise and balance, clad in black pants and nothing much else. He was barely even sweating, his bare chest chiseled and tanned.

"Ch-" The agent let out as he regulated his breathing, letting out a kung-fu noise.

Without warning, he moved, lightning quick, bringing down his elbow as he aimed a blow at Chuck's chest.

Chuck rolled away just in time, rising awkwardly to his knees.

Agent Morrison's eyes were hard, like any spy, but his features were rather baby-like and round, almost friendly. He didn't speak much, instead observing, always observing.

"Get up," He said, moving away to allow Chuck time to scramble less-than-gracefully to his feet.

The cotton brushed against his skin as he steadied himself again, wishing that the intersect would just hurry up and defend itself and it's inhabited body. Casey's forest green combat top was a little loose, the t-shirt sleeves dangling around his elbows, the bottom hem tucked into the worn BDU pants that were Casey's too.

"For the love of Reagan," Casey swore, as he strode impatiently towards Chuck, mighty fist pulled back.

Chuck turned when he heard his handler's voice, and Sarah's shout, just in time to receive a powerful punch to his face under his eye as he skidded back onto the floor a few meters, breathless and dizzy as his vision started going black.

"Chuck!"

He could feel soft hands patting his face as he heard Morrison reprimanding Casey, both stepping out of the room for a moment at the senior CIA agent's request.

"Hey," Sarah's voice drifted into his hearing as he painfully closed his eyes, "Chuck. Look at me."

Chuck felt her lift his head and place it on her lap, one hand running through his rumpled curls. When she spoke, he was startled at the proximity of her voice, and he forced his eyes open to see her face hovering over his.

"Chuck, are you okay?"

He thought that was a rather obvious question.

"No," He groaned, shifting his battered body gently.

Sarah ran her finger over his cheek and nose, tracing it onto his temple and back down to his chin tenderly. When he looked at her again, her eyes were sad. Finally she had opened up again as she had at the wedding and reception. If it took a hard knock to his head to lower her defenses, he would gladly receive it over, and over again; no matter how long it took until she was willing to talk to him properly as Sarah, not Agent Walker who had made her appearance after she'd been interrupted by his father while they danced.

Chuck raised his hand, covering one of hers. Her hand stilled under his grip, and he caressed her skin lightly, his thumb stroking the inside of her wrist until her breath shuttered a little, her eyes still watching his face intently.

Sarah's expression was as vulnerable as it had been when she had told him she had been reassigned to be with Bryce, but the smile from the reception when she had swayed in his arms, her chin on his shoulder, shakily eclipsed her face.

There was more emotion on her features than there had been since Bryce's death and the uploading of the beta Intersect. He hadn't had the time to talk to her yesterday, Casey herding him decisively out the door as soon as introductions were made with Morrison. On his way out the door, Sarah hadn't turned to watch him leave, and Chuck almost wanted to accuse Casey of trying to protect Sarah.

"How do you feel?" She asked gently, genuine concern shining in her eyes.

_Overwhelmed. Worried. About you; us. Tired. Uncertain._

"The beta Intersect's okay," He said simply, "Maybe this time they safeguarded it from accidents like this because they knew Casey would somehow try to kill Bryce again."

Sarah didn't look convinced, or pleased with him.

"I meant you." She said, looking away self-consciously.

Chuck tried to smile, but only ended up twisting his lips in a half grimace.

"You care about me?" He asked, adrenaline rushing into his heart as he looked up at her, his eyes open and ready for her the sure eventuality of her self-protective instincts by closing up abruptly, freezing any further questions with a sharp look.

He got ready to accept her rejection, but his eyes widened in shock when she spoke, her voice soft and measured, "I care about you," she confessed, a little shyly.

Chuck beamed, a large smile splitting his face as he watched her in admiration and awe.

Sarah continued, "But I've also got to make sure you're as prepared as possible," she placed a hand gently on his chest, where Morrison's last blow had nearly hit, "And that means that Morrison's right. Even Casey. It's imperative that we discover what you can do with the new Intersect now."

Chuck stared at her uncomprehendingly, "You're taking _Morrison's _side?" His anger was palpable, and for a moment he was aware that he was jealous of Morrison, after having his heart battered first with both of Bryce's return, and Cole's attractive, seemingly natural charm, threatening whatever manly pride he had. Chuck was aware he didn't measure up at all to men like that who belonged with women like Sarah. Smart- he often noticed words like 'imperative' sneak out into her daily language, betraying her Harvard grooming, she was beautiful, and no doubt- lethal.

"What are you saying, Chuck?" She asked defensively at his accusing tone.

His lips were firm as he sat up, nearly colliding with her head in the process, "You're taking his side. You're actually condoning their method of beating the skills out of me!"

Sarah stood, placing her hands on her hips as she towered over him as if trying to intimidate him, as if the height helped her to have the upper hand over him, giving herself the illusion that she was in control.

"Yes! I'm thinking of what's best for you," She said, her voice softening again as she reached for him.

Chuck snatched his hands away, watching her pleading look turn passive again. He hated how she could turn her emotions on and off. He had ever since he'd met her, but never let it through his lips except for that one time when he was on a fake date with Jill. He blamed his sudden attitude on the new Intersect, meddling with his emotions, giving him little nudges and impulses in the back of his mind, just inside of his conscious thinking, telling him what to do in certain circumstances.

Brushing by her, he tripped towards the door in his anger, and pushed past the two unsuspecting men still talking, -one angrily, as he made his way to the stairs.

"Where are you going, Bartowski!" Casey yelled, his last name slipping from his lips as if it were a dirty word. He seemed to have calmed a little since his frustration in the training room, "We haven't finished here!"

Without a word, Chuck slammed the door to the Castle, grabbing a cup of frozen yogurt for his lunch break that had passed an hour and a half ago before making his way across the parking lot, the bell on the store's door tinkling cheerily after him.

-

"Hi!"

Chuck looked up grumpily, avoiding one last customer on his stalk up the center aisle towards his domain. His kingdom, the Nerd Herd, where even Casey couldn't touch because of his lack of knowledge of high tech electronics.

A bright smile was on Hannah's face, but it dimmed as she took notice of his expression.

"Something wrong?"

_What was up with females always asking him that, _Chuck thought, _isn't it obvious enough_?

She winced at the darkness and puffiness that had started to spread on his cheek, "Bumped into a wall?"

Trying to fix a smile to his face, but failing spectacularly, Chuck rounded the corner to reclaim his chair, Hannah settling casually onto the counter beside him.

"I'm fine." He said shortly, hoping she'd get the point that he really couldn't deal with being nice today, as much as he wanted to. Scooping a huge mouthful of yogurt, he chomped on it as if he wished it would choke him and kill him.

Hannah inspected her fingernails as she spoke again, either tactfully ignoring his cues to go away, or oblivious to his mood. "Girlfriend problems?"

Chuck didn't speak, but she kept on speaking, "I just got out of a long relationship myself. I have a lot of baggage."

His attention was fully on her now, a half-hearted smile on his lips. It was a nice change to speak to someone so warm and responsive, who was willing to share the truth, for once. It was hard to come by since his introduction into the espionage world.

"I'm good at handling baggage," He said, a dreamy look in his eye as he almost automatically followed up her statement, remembering vividly his and Sarah's first date.

But instead of the awkward silence he had expected, she laughed, rolling her eyes, "That has got to be the cheesiest thing I've heard since coming here."

Chuck raised his eyes to her again, feeling rejuvenated again as he watched her in a new light. Sarah's distance and coldness was tiring to penetrate after a while. It made his own spirits low after defending his bright character from her moodiness. He was still so angry with her, and it drew him to Hannah's cheerfulness.

"What can I say?" He said, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. He raised his hands in a mock shrug, ignoring Casey's entrance into the Buy More, "I'm a funny guy."


	10. Entry Eight

* * *

_Entry Eight_

-

She scrutinizes her appearance in front of the full-length mirror, regretting the decision to buy it in the first place. She should have been happy with the small circular mirror in the bathroom; who needed to see what they were wearing anyway?

Alas, she smoothes the front of her dress and twists her body to the side, hoping it will present a better profile.

She's dismayed however when she realizes the view is _that_ much worse.

Growling, she twists her body back to face the mirror straight ahead and considers forgoing all this trouble and changing into a paper-bag once and for all. She can't seem to decide what's worse—accepting the fact she's become a frump or trying in vain to deny it.

Suddenly she hears a barely suppressed laugh from just around the corner.

She places her hands on her hips and glares out at the vacant doorway.

"What's so funny?"

Bravely he strides into view, leaning against the threshold to their bedroom.

"Nothing," he utters, striking a casual pose with tongue in cheek and both hands in his pockets. "You just look so adorable when you're flustered."

Blood suddenly rushes to her cheeks, and when she looks again at the mirror, her reflection is undeniably flushed.

"This is all your doing," she says. "And it's not fair that you still get to look the way you do while I swell up like a balloon." When she sees that he's still smiling, it only makes her flush harder. "I can't go out looking this way. You'll have to go without me—"

"Hey, hey!" He rushes to her side and turns her away from the ill-received reflection. "What are you talking about? You look amazing!"

"Don't lie to me, Charles Irving Bartowski!" she warns and he knows she means business when she uses his full name like that. "I'm a hippopotamus and I refuse to be seen in public with you."

He struggles to keep a straight face for her sake, but in the end, his lips betray him. "Seriously?" he asks, turning her back around. They stare into the mirror's reflection together, his arms wrapped securely around her. "Now tell me we aren't one good looking couple."

She has no choice but to smile.

He tilts his head towards her until they are cheek to cheek. "Tell me we don't look happy," he implores, his hands drifting down to rest against her belly.

She has nothing to say, her expression says it all.

He wags his eyebrows at her through the mirror and she breaks into a laugh.

"You are unflappably cheesy, husband mine," she informs, tilting her head back to gaze into his warm, loving eyes.

He smiles. "And you..." He dips his head down to capture her lips in a tender kiss. "You're perfect just the way you are."

She arches her brow, not about to give in so easily. "Even when your wife's a hippopotamus?" As if to prove her point she pulls him closer; the distance is impossible to close with such a prominent belly but she tries anyway.

He laughs and rubs the obtrusive bump. "I happen to _love_ hippopotamuses." He kisses her again, coaxing the frown into a reluctant smile. "And I love baby hippopotamuses too," he adds, kissing her belly.

She swats him, threatening to put her skills to good use. "Don't anger the hippopotamus," she warns, narrowing her eyes. "You're no match."

He just smiles and shakes his head. "I saw defeat the first time I laid eyes on you." He takes her hand gives her a gentle tug. "Now stop stalling. We have a party to attend."

She pouts but her gaze is nothing compared to the heart-melting quality in his. She's a sucker and she knows it.

"_Fine._ You win," she says with a certain air of resignation.

He sticks his tongue out at her, undeniably pleased. Everything she's said earlier has just become null.

"I love you," he reminds, tugging on her arm.

She rolls her eyes. No matter how many times he says it, he still gets her every time.

"I love you too," she says, and when she looks into his eyes, she finds it impossible not to smile.

-

Their hands thread together and lock in place; he doesn't leave her side for a second. There are dozens of beautiful women just dying for a moment with him, but when he stares down at her, it's like she's the only girl in the whole wide world.

"Penny for your thoughts," he murmurs into her ear. The party's died down and they've found a quiet place to sit so she can rest her swollen ankles.

She smirks. "Make it a quarter and you've got a deal."

He looks at her expectantly and gives her a quick peck on the cheek; definitely better than a quarter.

Suddenly she feels incredibly self-conscious. She tries to cover her belly with her shawl and pulls down her bangs to obscure her face but it's all in vain.

"What is it?" he asks.

She tries to shrug it off but she's captured his attention.

"Come on. You can tell me anything."

She takes a deep breath. "How did I get so lucky?" she asks. She doesn't expect an answer; if there's an explanation for how it's done they'd be millionaires.

He pulls a loose strand of her hair and wraps it around his finger. "What can I say? You're exactly my type."

When he winks at her, it's so unbelievably corny she can barely suppress a laugh.

"Chuck!" she warns, struggling to keep a straight face. "I'm serious. People like me don't deserve second chances."

He looks at her, slightly confused, and when he realizes she's serious, the confusion only deepens.

"Everyone deserves a second chance."

_No. Not everyone. _Only her husband would be so forgiving as to think such a thing, but she knows better. She's made so many mistakes in the past, but finally...she's gotten something right.

He rubs her belly and she's reminded again of just how lucky she truly is. She has nearly everything she could ever ask for.

"Thank you, Chuck," she whispers. He wraps his arms around her and she leans into him for support. Hippopotamus jokes aside, she knows he'll always be there to support her.

He kisses her, tickling her with the shadow of his chin.

"You're welcome—"

"Hey, there you guys are!" The couple split apart at the sudden intrusion. "Don't move, this will make a perfect photo for the scrapbook—"

"Ellie..." she drawls. The spotlight's been returned most unwillingly and she tries to find any opportunity to push it onto someone else. "You've already taken a hundred photos of us. Look!" She points to the little bearded man ambling along the courtyard with questionable sobriety. "The obligatory photo of Drunk Morgan. If you don't take it now you'll miss your chance."

The elder brunette rolls her eyes. "_Right._ That's exactly what I need for the scrapbook." She holds up the camera, not about to take 'no' for an answer. "Come on. Big smiles now."

Chuck puts his arm around his wife and draws her closer. However averse she may be to the idea of having her photo taken in such a state, she can't keep a smile off her face.

The happy moment is captured forever by a _click_ and a flash of light.

Ellie looks down at the image on her camera and positively beams. "_Aww. _It's perfect. I always knew you kids would work things out." She puts the camera away and beckons for them to follow after her. "Come on, you guys see enough of each other every day. I invited you guys so you could mingle and meet new people."

Chuck laughs. "But Ellie, if you want to introduce me to other girls you have to do it when—" He jerks his head subtly to the one seated beside him. "—isn't around."

"Excuse me?"

Ellie runs off before she becomes entangled in a lover's quarrel and Chuck only laughs, kissing his wife to dissuade her of resorting to violence.

"That's not funny, Mr. Bartowski," she warns, clasping both hands over the hill of her ever prominent belly. "Do you have any idea how easily I could _crush_ you right now?"

He just laughs; either he's incredibly brave or terribly naive. "It's only funny because you know it could never be true. Just look at how long it took for me to get over you—" He stops himself when he sees the warning look she shoots him. "Not that I ever succeeded...because you are quite frankly, impossible to forget."

If nothing else, she has to smile at that. "I love you, Chuck."

He clasps her hand and squeezes it, their matching wedding bands glinting in the moonlight. "I love you too, Jill; always and forever."

* * *


	11. Entry Nine

* * *

_Entry Nine_

-

The sun was shining brightly like a diamond in the clear velvet blue sky, although it felt as though today should be a bleak, rainy day. Everyone knows that LA is a city that never sleeps and rarely has bad weather, good for some maybe. But not for him – not today. Agent Clark Shaw had been training a seduction lesson in _Neon, _the new hot nightclub in LA, as usual things had gone wrong and now he was left listening to Casey's degrading comments about how much he screwed up. Usually it wasn't that bad however this time Sarah did not jump to defend him, he knew that she silently agreed.

"You see Chuck the key to seduction is to know your mark, and anticipate their reactions. Like a comic book. You know all those comic books well and this is how you should know your mark."

"_That's the only action Bartowski gets. "_

Muttered a snickering Casey.

"As I was saying-"

Then he saw _her_. For a split second the world stood still as she threw her silky, chocolate locks over her shoulder allowing them to cascade down her back. Normally he didn't pay attention to any women other than Sarah but he was drawn to her like some sort of magnet. The only word to describe it would be as some sort of attraction, although he can't see her face he silently pleads her to turn to him. Shaw's words are falling upon deaf ears now as he is transfixed in her and only her. It was as though she read his mind as she turned momentarily catching his eyes for a moment as they soaked into him like an espresso.

"-And that's seduction!"

He shook out of his trance and stared at Shaw for a moment as he headed to board the plane, he didn't know who it was but at least she had saved him from another lecture including snide remarks. He silently thanked her hoping that she would somehow get the message. As the team clamber up the metal stairs to board the plane, first class, he stops in his tracks causing Sarah to bump into him because there she is. Sat alone in first class flicking through a DC magazine.

He guessed that Sarah had noticed him staring at the mysterious brunette but said nothing, he didn't want her to become more agitated than she already was with him. After all he didn't need a pencil embedded in his head like one of the Joker's victims. He sat down next to her melting into the chair, it was the first time he'd travelled first class and he intended to enjoy it.

"So Chuck, do you know that girl?"

Yet again Shaw had broken into his inner thoughts and he couldn't help but resent the handsome agent for it. Not only does he rival Sarah's attentions at every time possible, which is _extremely _unprofessional for a super agent, but he notices all of his movements.

"Nope."

"Go talk to her"

Now he really was confused, it was obviously another attempt to get in Sarah's pants.

"Nah – I'm ok just here! _Really._"

"Go seduce her, it'll be good practise and maybe the last mission wouldn't have been such a waste. That's an order."

He looked to Sarah for desperate reassurance but yet again she kept her silence and avoided his eyes. He needed answers. He needed her. But she seems clueless to this as he unbuckles his seat belt and begins to head towards the front of the plane brushing past Casey on the way. He can hear him mutter moron as he sighs to himself. By the time he's rejected Shaw will have already stolen his seat.

He tries to slip into his Charmicheal persona but sees it as useless remembering a time when Sarah encouraged him to be himself. Dragging his feet towards the brunette he tried to put on a smile but it always fell flat, at least he could say he tried and pretend he is tired to sleep during the flight to avoid their disapproving looks and scolding.

"Is this seat taken? Yes – thank you!"

He started to move away from the seat quickly as he felt a hand grab his lower arm as his eyes met hers for the second time since he'd laid eyes upon her.

"Actually it isn't"

His first genuine smile of the day as he thanked her for allowing him to sit next to her creating a feeble excuse of how some young couple had stolen his seat but he didn't have the heart to tell them to move. He decided it best to ignore the magazine to avoid Casey's ribbings about it later in the day.

"I'm Chuck."

"_Hannah_."

He gave her a sheepish grin as he tried to awkwardly get his lanky frame past her petite one as their limbs tangled together until he reached his seat muttering sorry. Everyone had seen their little show on first class and both were bright red.

"-So Chuck, do you usually stare at girls in airports?"

"I-ah, no. I mean, I-uh... wasn't staring – not that you're not easy to stare at but I don't stare at-"

"I was joking..."

"Oh – erm... haha!"

An awkward silence fell across the pair as the flight attendant began to list the emergency exits for the plane ride – this was going to be an uncomfortable journey. He threw a glance over to Sarah who was chuckling at something Shaw had whispered in her ear, they looked like a _real_ couple. He sighed to himself. The flight attendant had disappeared as the flight took off into the air. He could still hear her laughter after they'd taken off, he knew he had lost her now. It was only time until she found another agent who was good enough for her – and after all Shaw was an incredible guy even though Chuck disliked his affections for Sarah greatly. He was happy she had finally found someone he thought dejectedly.

"So not much of a talker?"

During his pity party he had forgotten his objective to seduce Hannah, pushing his thoughts of Sarah out of his mind as much as he could he focused.

"Oh – I talk, well babble more but that's mostly when I'm around really beautiful women – I mean not only then there are other times like this time when I was five when my sister Ellie left her doll in my room and I broke it playing-I don't play with girls toys but it was an accident -"

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"Yeah – but I normally don't say things like that when I first meet-"

"Chuck?"

"Yes?"

"You're babbling."

She giggled at his gibberish, it was unlike anything he had heard before because Sarah never giggles at anything. Sure she laughs but not a school girl giggle like this. He found himself laughing with Hannah about – well nothing really. As their laughter echoed through the passenger cabin a certain distracted blonde stared in their direction longingly. She knew that Chuck would have to deal with other agents without her some time but it still killed her to hear him with another woman. Shaw had told her to keep her distance from Chuck because she'd get him killed eventually if he was too involved with her. He knows they're professional but he has his own opinion on their relationship. _She'll have to protect the world from Chuck – _but how can she protect the world and her heart?

"So Chuck, why are you heading to the most romantic city in the world?"

"Well it was originally me and my girlfriend-"

Her smile faltered.

"-but we broke up last minute and I thought, hey I might as well enjoy it."

"Oh... That's too bad."

"She moved on to another guy, she's happy now-"

_The no old girlfriends rule Chuck... _

"-but that's over now and her restraining order is very specific!"

This was rewarded with another giggle.

"You're cute Chuck,"

Smiling sheepishly as she complimented him, he was going to ask about watching a movie but she beat him to it – the less talking the better. She clicked on a film called 'Because of Winn Dixie' and promised that it'd be good. During the two or so hours that Winn Dixie played they'd constantly point out parts that were funny, cute or sad just to remind the other they were still there. Chuck had begun to enjoy Hannah's company and saw her more as a companion rather than a mission. When the film had finished he decided to share his own Winn Dixie like experience.

"I had a dog named Peaches, he ran away."

"How can a dog run away?"

"I don't know... My sister said-"

"I think he ran over the rainbow bridge."

"Nah... So why are you off to Paris?"

She paused for a moment as if wondering herself why she was going.

"Modelling – well I'm wandering between jobs. I was going to do this one at a BuyMore but a load of the girls said it was just two middle aged men leering at them – I'm really glad I didn't go. You never know, I'll probably end up at a BuyMore... Funny right? One minute you've got a future and the next your thinking about applying to work at a BuyMore... What did you say you did again Chuck?"

He nervously laughed for a second.

"I'm head Nerd Herder at a BuyMore..."

"Oh... Didn't you mention that you went to Stanford before?"

"Yeah I just kind of got stuck-"

"Yeah, all your options fade and you're stuck in a dead end career with a dead end job."

"Finally someone understands."

"Modelling isn't all it's cracked up to be – half the girls are really bitchy and you have to try be something you're not."

The similarity between their situations was not lost on Chuck it was as though he had connected with her. For the rest of the flight they talked about the BuyMore and all the weird stuff that goes on there from the Jeffster band performance to the crash in the BuyMore until he felt a vibrating in his pocket. There was only about fifteen minutes left of the flight to Paris and soon they'd be landing and he'd have to deal with the ribbing of his failed missions. He hoped they viewed this as a success. Checking the screen he noted it was Sarah as he continued animatedly explaining the story of Big Mike's marlin.

_Having fun? S_

Typical she finds a way to weasel her incredibly flexible body into the conversation and into his mind. He considered ignoring it but decided against it as she'd just persist.

_Yes, Hannah is great. You? C_

_I'm bored. Watched Winn Dixie. S_

He had to control a chortle at this comment noting that he and Hannah had just watched the same film during the flight. They'd stopped talking and she was flicking through a model magazine whilst he texted back.

_Me too. It was sweet how they found each other. C_

_My favourite part. S_

_You and Clark watch it? C_

_No, just me. You and Hannah? S_

_Yeah, on different TVs. Wish we had rainstorms back home. C_

What was he doing? She thought to herself. Typing he finds the only model type looking brunette who seems totally into him on an aeroplane. What are the chances? It's _always _brunettes.

_I'm sure Hannah would approve. S_

_Sure Clark likes the sun. C_

Typical. They'd fought even over text message – they would never be together at this rate as he felt the woman of his dreams slipping through his fingers at a terrifying speed.

_Sorry :( C_

He's saying sorry? I was the one that started it. He can't apologize!

_Me too. S_

_I'm bored Lol. C_

What does 'Lol' mean? Hmm... I'll just agree.

_Me too, plane landing now. See you on the outside. S_

_Meet you there. C_

As he left the plane he felt much lighter, and happy that he and Sarah had finally put aside their differences. He grinned – maybe Paris wouldn't be so bad after all. Hannah followed behind him out of the stairs as he agreed he'd maybe see her some other time, she knew he worked at the BuyMore anyway. They hugged for a moment and as they parted she pressed her lips on his, the kiss was slow and tender and... strange. He felt her tongue search for his as a blonde woman looked on from the plane hurrying down the stairs telling her team that she would get a taxi. It all happened so quickly that it was a blur and as soon as he realized what she was doing he pushed her off gently.

"It's like cheating on her."

Hannah sighed.

"Do you love her still?"

He paused for a beat.

"Yeah... Not that I don't like you but –"

"I get it. I'll see you around?"

"Sure... Bye Hannah."

"Bye _Chuck._"

He watched as her figure sauntered off into the crowd of people, this time as he watched her leave he didn't feel the trance like sensation sweep over him - instead he watched as a newly made friend left. Now all he wanted to see was Sarah. Shaw's voice boomed behind him-

"Mission accomplished! Sarah got us a cab."

As the trio wandered towards the taxi point where Sarah would be waiting, he walked with a spring in his step. Not because of Hannah but because it felt as though he and Sarah were finally getting back on track. As he swung open the door to the taxi he grinned at her, but her expression remained stoic as though she had seen through him. Shaw and Casey shoved in and he was left with the last seat next to Casey as they made a very tense, thankfully short, journey to the hotel.

As they arrived at the hotel the team piled out of the car quickly as possible separating into their different groups. Him and Sarah were meant to pose as a married couple meaning they had to share a room, not that he would mind but his good mood had dissipated as soon as he got into the taxi. They hurried into their room, noticing the one bed, as he threw his suitcase (that Shaw had carried thinking it was Sarah's) onto the bed.

"So as you can see just the one bed-"

"Is that a problem Chuck? I can always ask Clark to-"

"No problem. Why would it be a problem?"

"Well you have aversion to any kind of affection from anyone other than brunettes-"

"Jill was over six months ago!"

"Well Hannah was under ten minutes ago!"

"So was Clark!"

How dare he even relate his and Hannah's relationship to hers and Clark's? They were _totally _different. Sure she admired Clark's record of service to the CIA but she didn't mouth-rape him within a few hours of meeting him. She hadn't even kissed him!

"Me and Agent Shaw are COMPLETELY professional! Unlike you who blurs lines between a SEDUCTION _mission_ and reality."

"Well she talked to me Sarah, she _TALKED! _When did you last talk to me? Without going all nuclear about me talking to someone else?"

"You KISSED her!"

"She kissed ME! I pushed her away because I still love-"

"Don't say it."

"What? That I love you? THERE! I _love _you."

"I have to go."

It was all too much for her now, how can he just tell her that he pushed her away because he _loves _her. She can't slip up now, she would definitely get reassigned. She needs to protect the world from Chuck – cute, lovable, adorable, nerdy Chuck. The same Chuck that wouldn't hurt a fly. She sighed. She needed to leave. She headed towards the door, the only way out from here. She'd rather be anywhere but here.

Before she knew what was happening he'd grabbed her lower arm pulling her into his torso and proceeded to crash his lips into hers. Kissing her desperately when she allowed his tongue to intertwine with her own. Melting into the kiss as his strong hands cradling her neck. Her fingers rifling through his unruly head of curls.

Their bodies moulded together, his hands snaking round her back pulling her into him urgently as they stumble backwards towards the bed. Her hands attacked his shirt tugging him into her body as they collapsed onto the bed. Tangled legs thudding into the mattress. A moan escapes her lips when his fingers slowly caress her hip.

Pushing themselves further onto the bed as he prowled over her as she tore his shirt off to reveal his naked torso. Her legs wrap around his chest as he frantically tries to peel off her shirt.

"_Sarah"_

He whispers it as thought it's some sort of affirmation that he's really there and it's really happening, she laughs quietly not believing it was true herself. Trailing kisses down her now exposed chest soaking in her scent-

_Knock Knock_

"Room service."

They can hear a faint, gruff voice from outside the hotel door – they know it's not really room service and it's just Casey checking up on them. Chuck lets out a frustrated sigh as he rolls onto his back beside her beginning to get up from the bed where they had laid. This time he's pushed back down onto his back when she straddles him hiding his gasp of surprise with a passionate kiss. They locked eyes for a moment in silence as Casey impatiently knocked again and declared he was room service.

"We're busy."

And that was all she said before she pressed her lips back onto his - proving that blondes do it better than brunettes. It's always Sarah Walker, always has been. _Always will be._

* * *


	12. Entry Ten

* * *

_Entry Ten_

-

There wasn't much time. Outside the loading dock, Chuck slid under NRDHRD 4 and checked the installation under the steering assembly. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his Converse All-stars.

"Really, Morgan. I've got to finish this so I can take Sarah out."

"Umm, about that…" said a voice that was definitely not his bearded friend.

The nerd jumped and hit his head on the undercarriage. "OWWW!"

He slid out from under the Toyota, rubbing his head. Sarah gave a half-apologetic smirk. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you – old habits die hard. You did say noon, right?"

"Sure, yeah. Can you hand me that towel?" he tried to cover.

"Everything okay?" Sarah asked as she handed him the rag.

"Err, yeah. I just don't want to be a grease monkey for my date," he kidded with a weak smile that expanded when the beauty in front of him looked into his eyes.

Keeping her gaze on him she responded, "We wouldn't want her to think that…"

"Right. You ready?"

"Of Course." Sarah lent out her hand.

Chuck grabbed hold of her hand and hopped to his feet.

"Want to take the Charger?"

"NO. I mean, that's okay," Chuck stammered. "Let's take the Herder, I've got everything ready in the backseat."

Sarah quirked a brow at his suggestion, making Chuck realize what he said. "Actually, what I meant was…why don't we just go." Chuck finished as Sarah walked over to where Chuck usually parked.

"No, not that one. Err, um, Jeff parked in my spot today," Chuck fibbed. Sarah looked down at the bumper sticker – '_We Protect & Serve Data_' – with a furrowed brow. _Great, did she know?_

Chuck moved his hand to behind her shoulder and guided her around to the passenger side of the Herder next to the one that first caught her eye. Chuck opened the door for her and after she got in, he closed it. As he stepped around the back, he smiled at the bumper sticker on the back of their ride – '_There's No Place Like .'_

-

"Let's go home boys!" Lester said with grin.

"Chuck's gone for the day, I say we head to Benny's for a nightcap," Jeff remarked.

"But it's the middle of the day," Skip responded.

"Skip, skipster, skipman, let's not quibble over semantics. You don't always want to be the Buy More stooge do you?" the effeminate Indian asked.

Fernando shook his head vigorously at his curly haired compatriot.

"Alright we're in, but my Herder's in the shop."

"Oh no way are you three going to pollute my clean oasis of a ride, Jeff we'll take yours," Lester insisted.

"We can't. Emmett's having my seats re-upholstered _again_."

"That's the third time bubbala. Can't you find another place to leave your underwear? Wait, never mind, don't answer that. There are some lines that I don't want to ever cross."

"I've got something else in mind," the balding nerd said as he dangled a familiar set of keys with a brain keychain on it.

"Right! Chuck won't mind, we'll just be watching his car while he's out," Lester added.

Fernando looked at Skip and made an 'uplifting' gesture with his oh-so-flabby chest. "Fernando says let's go to Hooters instead."

"Boob-i-Full Babes!" said the elder pervert of the bunch. "And maybe a chance at an off-site install!"

Lester's eyes widened and Fernando slapped his head as they followed their soon-to-be drunken driver to the loading dock. Following them from behind, Skip muttered under his breath…

"When Chuck's away the Morons will play."

-

"It's nice to be able to get away just for the afternoon." Chuck said as he pulled off of Golden State Freeway.

"And I thought you were taking me home," Sarah remarked when they turned onto Zoo Drive.

"Oh no, we're not going there. I already work at a zoo filled with animals, with the exception to Anna and Morgan…well okay, that probably includes them too as much as I catch them making out like bunnies in the break room."

Sarah smirked at Chuck's ramble. "So we're going to the Observatory," the inquiring agent deduced as they turned right into Griffith Park.

"Let's just say we're going to do some observing," Chuck smiled and focused on her heavenly pair of eyes.

-

Fernando's eyes widened as observed the heavenly pair in front of him. It was taking everything within him not to reach out and 'Tune In Toyko.'

"What's wrong with the green shirt?" Lester asked as he put down his second beer.

"Oh, he's just seen _Girls Just Want to Have Fun_ a few too many times," Skip muttered. "Every time he gets within a tentacle's length of a woman, he just wants to reach out and…"

"Tune in Toyko? Who doesn't?" Jeff ogled at the waitress and gave Fernando a high five.

"I think we need another round of drinks," Lester added.

-

"Would you like something to drink?" Chuck asked with a big grin on his face. He pushed a button on the center console. Suddenly, the top flipped up to reveal two glasses and a bottle of bubbly. Sarah laughed.

"It's not Cristal, but who could afford that on $12.50 an hour?"

"You're in luck, because I only order Cristal when I'm in trouble. There isn't going to be any trouble tonight, is there?" she said saucily.

Chuck's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "I, uh don't think so, but you know with our track record on dates…"

Sarah nodded with a smirk as Chuck popped the cork and gave it to her. "What are we drinking today?" Sarah sniffed the cork while Chuck poured the wine.

"Chateau Margaux, I've had it ever since that night…" he stopped short of mentioning _his_ name as he handed her a glass.

"Oh," Sarah stopped. "He always had a way of popping in at the most inopportune times."

"That he did." They both drank their glasses in silence. Five seconds, ten, fifteen passed as both considering what to say next. Of course, Chuck was the first to speak again.

"You miss him don't you?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"Me too. I finally got my friend back and now he's gone." Chuck sighed.

Sarah shook her head acknowledging his loss as well as hers while she stared down at her glass.

"To Bryce, without him I would've never met the best man I've ever known." Sarah turned and looked into Chuck's eyes. In that moment, her constant gaze told him exactly who _that man_ was and he was sitting next to her.

-

Sitting in the booth next to Jeff, Skip watched in awe as the bumbling nerd downed another golden pitcher of Pabst. The dude had to have a beer worm, Skip was sure of it. He'd seen episodes on Animal Planet about the parasite, although he thought they were limited to the Zombie population. _Was Jeff a Zombie?_ He often rocked from side to side when he came into work and he rarely left his office, stall 2, during daylight hours.

-

The air began to steady as the sun came closer and closer to the Hollywood sign atop Mount Lee. Chuck looked over at Sarah and smiled. "I know you miss her too."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your baby. You know, it starts was a P and ends with an E and has an…uh…ORSCH in the middle."

"Oh, that. Well, it was _unfortunate_ that we had to ditch her."

"Unfortunate? You used to love that car." Chuck gave a knowing smirk.

"It was nice to drive with the top down."

"You don't say." Chuck waggled his brows and hit a button near the steering column. Suddenly, the top of the Herder began to fold back to the rear.

Sarah's jaw dropped. "How'd you do that?"

"Optimus Prime was my hero growing up," Chuck cracked. When he noticed her confused look he added, "The Transformers? I guess we're just gonna have to add that to the list along with Zelda, Magik, and D&D. By the way, I'm still not buying that you don't know about them. I saw your high school photo. Jenny Burton had 'F.L.A.' written all over her."

"I was not a future LARPER in the making," Sarah protested.

"AH! HA! I knew it!" Chuck laughed. Sarah crossed her arms in mock protest.

Chuck pointed at her, "I knew you enjoyed going undercover way too much. It was just the way that you wore that hot dog necklace, it was a total give away."

Sarah rolled her eyes and turned away but she couldn't help but smile. The way things were going this might end up being the best date of her life.

-

"This might be the best date of my life," Jeff sloshed as the Hooters girl came to deliver their next two pitchers. Before he could make his play though, the silent green shirt leaned over and attempted to do what he'd had the better sense not to do eight beers earlier. As he grabbed hold of the gifts that the good lord had endowed this blessed waitress with, he didn't get the reaction he was expecting. Instead, she dumped both pitchers over his head.

"Not cool Fernando, I called dibs," Jeff said as they hobbled quickly outside.

"Do we have to pay for those pitchers too?" Lester yelled as he backpedaled out the door.

Skip returned from the bathroom to find the soggy table empty and the manager heading his way. The lanky nerd hightailed it out the door and jumped head first through the back herder.

Jeff hit the gas and they peeled out of the parking lot down the Golden State Freeway. After several death defying maneuvers across five lanes, the Buy More boys convinced Jeff to get off I-5 at Zoo Drive.

"Don't worry 'bout da fuzz fellas, it lukks like Chuck's got it under cunTROLL," Jeff slurred holding up a small canister of breath spray. As he rounded the curve into Griffith Park, he took a couple blasts of the mint goodness. In a split second, the mullet head was knocked-out cold with his foot stuck on the gas.

"Jeff, Jeffery, Jefferson, JEFF…NOT AGAIN!" Lester yelled as he tried to slap his bestie awake.

"AGAIN?" Skip yelled, while reaching over the top of the driver's seat trying to get to the steering wheel.

Fernando quickly snaked his way diagonally from the back, trying to get the passed out nerd's foot off the gas. Instead, Jeff grabbed hold the green shirt's moppy head and moved it into his lap muttering, "This is the spot you want."

"AHHHHH!!!!!!" the silent frumpy nerd verbalized dropping back to his seat and in the fetal position.

The Herder continued to weave all over the road.

"DO SOMETHING!" Skip yelled at Lester while still trying to steer the car over the top of the seat.

Lester started hitting the CD changer.

"What you figured you'd find us a good last song as we do the Toonces over the ravine?"

"I don't know, I don't know what to do." Lester continued to hit the buttons. Suddenly, the glove compartment in front of him popped open and another steering wheel jutted out from the dash in front of him.

"Grab the wheel," Skip instructed but it was too late. The Herder collided with the rail, bouncing a few times with sparks flying around them. The car skidded, careening around the barrier until it reached the end. Lester hit the radio one last time and he found his last song, _Billy Joel's Good Night Saigon_. As they barrelled over the edge, the words blared…

_And we would all go down together  
We said we'd all go down together  
Yes we would all go down together_

Skip and Lester collectively yelled, "OHHHHHH SHITTTTTTT!!!!!!!!"

They hurdled over trees and brush in mid-air. Lester hit more buttons. He liked Billy Joel, but this was no way to die. As he hit the recirculating air button twice, two grappling hooks shot their way out the back of Herder. The hooks lodged themselves in a couple of trees, the lines became taut, and jerked the car to a halt. A split second before hitting the dash, air bags jutted from everywhere hugging the nerds like soft pillows.

-

Chuck grinned as he scooted his seat back and looked at her. "What?" she asked with a smile to match his.

"Nuthin, just watch," Chuck leaned up. He pressed the 'load' button on the CD player and then put the heater on 'high'. A balloon deployed from the steering wheel and shot up as the car began to fill it with hot air. Sarah stared up in wide-eyed disbelief.

"I'll be right back." Chuck climbed out of the Herder and disappeared behind a nearby tree. He returned lugging a large rattan basket.

"How?"

"Hold that thought." Chuck leaned into the car and gave her a peck on the cheek before he disappeared around the tree again. This time he returned with a burner and a couple propane tanks. He attached the basket to the balloon, put the tanks inside, and then hoisted burner securing it to the top of the basket.

"So, what do you think?" he asked with a big goofy grin on his face.

"Wha…how…." the agent struggled for the right words.

"You mean the CIA's top agent has never been up a balloon before?"

She shook her head.

"Hop in." Chuck grinned as he grabbed the wine from the Herder. After she was in, he followed suit. He then reached up to the blast valve on the burner and turned it up.

"Have you…" Sarah started.

"What?"

"Been up in a…wait, you're scared of heights." the blonde remarked.

"Yeah, I am. I guess that's why I have you here. Hold me close and catch me if I fall," Chuck chuckled at his own corny line.

Just as they lifted off, Sarah grabbed hold of Chuck's shoulders and pulled him in for a steamy kiss. The heat from the propane burner above was nothing compared to the fire that burned between the couple in the basket below. It was as if she had been waiting to kiss him like this all day. She held onto his neck and pulled him in closer. Chuck struggled for air, not from his fear of heights, but because he was so wrapped up in the kiss that he forgot to breathe. All he knew was that he'd been waiting for this kiss his whole life and it didn't matter where he was or how high up he was. There simply was no place in the world that he'd rather be.

-

Of all the places in the world, Lester never imagined he'd be stuck in a Herder dangling off the side of Mount Hollywood. He reached for a pen from his pocket protector and began punching holes in the air bags around him.

"Whoa, that was some blow," Jeff said smacking his lips.

"Be quiet you cretin, you drove us off a cliff."

"Well, technically, you did Lester, thanks to 'Herdie the wonder car,'" Skip interjected. "Now how are we going to get down?"

Lester reached down and began hitting buttons on the console again. He pressed the 'hazard flashers' and flames shot out the back.

"AHHHHH!!!!!" Fernando squealed.

"Hit something else before you burn us down," Skip shouted.

"I'm doing the best I can," Lester snapped. He hit the 'max cool' button and a water cannon doused the flames.

"Just don't hit the seat warmer, cause I have a bad feeling about that one. It'd probably eject us from the car."

Lester reached down and hit the 'seek track' button. Suddenly, two flares shot out of the top of the car.

-

"Wow!" Sarah panted as she caught a flash out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't know that you also had fireworks."

"Ummm…I uh…" Chuck struggled to catch his breath. "I didn't."

"Wait, those…are flares…where did they…"

"Is that a Herder dangling from those trees?"

-

"Is that a balloon with the Nerd Herd logo above us?" Skip asked as stuck his head out the window. Suddenly, a rope appeared. When he looked up, he saw their fearless leader. "Chuck!"

"Hey Skip! Grab the rope and slide down."

As Skip made it down, Fernando followed him, and then Lester.

Chuck's iPhone rang. "Hey Skip…You liked how I 'geeked my ride'…I'm glad. Is everyone out of the Herder?" Chuck sighed.

"Jeff's still in there."

"Remember how I got you to land that helicopter after we first met?" Sarah said.

"Right, video games."

"Is there a game…"

"You're a genius, you know?" Chuck dialed the number and put it on speaker phone. "Pick up you burned out pervert..."

Jeff answered. "Chuck, your ride it sweet. Kind of like my hair. All business in the front and party in the back."

Chuck took the phone off speaker and looked at Sarah, "I don't even know what that means..." He turned and spoke, "Jeff, remember the old Atari game _Jungle Hunt_?... I know you were a _Missile Command _guy…stick with me…yes, it's the one where they used to swing from vines. Jeff, I need you to grab the rope and swing down, can you do that? Great. Okay, no hang up the phone first, you're gonna need both hands on the rope."

Chuck looked at Sarah. He sighed as he turned down the blast valve and they lowered Jeff to safety. "I guess we're gonna have to cut our ride a little short."

Sarah cut him a sideways glance, "Oh? I hope you're just talking about the one in the balloon. Because. I don't know about 'geeking my ride' but I do know that I'd like to ride…"

"If you say 'my geek', I swear you can call me 'your geek' for the rest of my days."

Sarah whispered two words in his ear.

* * *


	13. Entry Eleven

* * *

_Entry Eleven_

-

It's been two weeks since that fateful day.

"Again."

Two weeks since Ellie's wedding, Roark's defeat, Bryce's death, The Ring's appearance…but more importantly, it's been two weeks since Chuck re-uploaded the Intersect.

"_Again."_

Since a flash unleashed Matrix-like martial arts.

"Not fast enough. You'll be knocked out before you even make your move!"

Since everyone was blindly thrown back into Operation Chuck, whether they wanted it or not.

"This isn't like your stupid video games, Bartowski - start taking this seriously!"

It's been this way for over an hour - yet another one of the intense NSA-issued training sessions that have been taking place over the past several days. But today's session is on offensive and defensive combat, and so far, all Chuck has managed to do is land a few uncoordinated punches that Casey simply swats away.

Now the NSA agent charges forward, aiming for Chuck's midsection. He's able to hold off a couple of blows before Casey breaks through his defenses; the punch nearly knocks the wind out of him, and Chuck staggers backwards, his eyes bulging.

"Casey, that's _enough!_"

At Sarah's sharp command, Chuck finally doubles over in pain, wheezing. Casey's eyes narrow as she rushes over to his side.

"You can't baby him anymore, Walker," he growls, folding his arms across his chest. "We still don't know how to flip the switch on this new Intersect. It's about time he learned how to protect himself, and he needs to learn it fast."

Sarah's eyes are practically screaming murder. "You know Chuck isn't cut out for this kind of training," she hisses vehemently. "You can't expect him to pick up on these moves in a day, much less fend off your attacks!"

Casey frowns, unsympathetic. "Maybe you've forgotten, Walker, but Chuck _chose_ to reupload that damn Intersect."

Sarah goes rigid at the blunt accusation. He knows that he's struck a particularly sensitive nerve, but despite the twinge of guilt, he continues anyway; it's something she needs to hear.

"The moment he put that thing back into his head, he made the decision to stay in our little spy world." His eyes penetrate the blonde agent, challenging her to prove him wrong. "With a threat like The Ring on our asses, he's gonna have to suck it up and become and agent sooner or later."

"It doesn't mean –"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Sarah, Casey's right."

Sarah whips around mid-protest to gape at Chuck, who lets out a sigh. "I…" he winces as he straightens to full height, "…_definitely_ didn't realize what I was getting myself into…but I still made that choice, and now there's no going back. I have to do this."

His next sentence is aimed at her - "I can't keep making the same excuses anymore."

For a moment, Sarah is too shocked to respond. Several emotions flit across her face before the agent side takes over; her expression slackens into a familiar unreadable mask, and she folds her arms across her chest.

"You're right," she admits, and Chuck blinks in confusion at the calm in her voice. "You chose to be a spy over getting back your normal life. Our country over yourself. It was the right thing to do, wasn't it?"

Casey arches an eyebrow and gives a non-committal grunt.

Sarah purses her lips. "Sorry, I'll let you two continue training. I actually have a bit of paperwork to finish." She turns and walks out the door, but not before tossing Chuck a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Keep it up, Chuck. You'll be a great agent in no time."

_Don't know much about your life_

_Don't know much about your world, but_

_Don't wanna be alone tonight_

_On this planet they call Earth_

The sharp knocks against the green door resonate throughout the hallway, and Chuck steps back to wait, feet shuffling nervously.

She's been purposely distancing herself from him. Ever since they escaped from the Intersect Vault, she's thrown herself into isolation – after all, with Ellie and Devon on their honeymoon, there's really no need to hold up cover appearances anymore. He's only seen her at debriefings and training sessions, but every time he makes any attempt to hold conversation, she either offers vague, limited-word responses or excuses herself from the room entirely. For the past two weeks, the only Sarah he's seen is a ghost of her former self, a self-detached agent at her best.

Until today, that is. Her actions and words from earlier are still replaying over and over in his mind, and for once, the headache assaulting his brain isn't because of the new Intersect. It hadn't been much, but for a split second the Sarah he remembered had resurfaced…and promptly disappeared the moment he had opened his fat mouth.

He knows it's entirely his fault, but he wants answers. She's been making excuses for so long; not only for the past two weeks, but also for everything else that's been going on between them. Frankly, he's sick of it, and that's why he's here now, waiting outside her door.

If only she would answer it.

Sighing, Chuck knocks again. No response. He runs a hand down his face in exasperation. "Sarah, just – just answer the door, please? We really need to t –"

The door abruptly swings open, and Sarah gazes at him from beyond the threshold, her expression carefully guarded. Only then does Chuck really notice her appearance – her shoulders are drooping slightly, and there are hints of dark circles around her eyes that even the best makeup can't cover up. She's never looked so exhausted, and suddenly everything Chuck has wanted to say to her since this whole mess started flies out the metaphorical window.

The desire to pull her into his arms is nearly overwhelming, but Chuck forces the urge away, knowing it'll do nothing to help the situation. Instead he shoves his hands into his pockets, his gaze anywhere but on her.

"Can I come in?"

Sarah is silent for a few long moments. Just when Chuck starts to think she won't let him through, she opens the door wider and walks over to the window overlooking the city, arms folding tightly across her chest. Chuck closes the door behind him, and the resounding click echoes throughout their silence.

_You don't know about my past_

_And I don't have a future figured out_

She knows why he's here, of course. It was only a matter of time before they'd have to face this, but honestly, nothing could have prepared her for the whirlwind that is Chuck Bartowski.

"I'm sorry."

Sarah tenses at the words. _She's_ the one who should be apologizing for the way she's been acting these past two weeks, and yet here he is, putting all of _her _faults on his shoulders. She hates herself for it, and yet a small part of her wants to hear his explanation. Maybe, just maybe, he can fix this mess they've gotten themselves into.

When it's obvious Sarah isn't going to respond, Chuck runs a weary hand through his hair and continues. "I shouldn't have brushed you off like that. You're only looking out for me, and I completely disregarded it. I just…"

He lets out a frustrated sigh. "I just don't know what's going on with you anymore, Sarah. I've been trying to figure out what it is, but no matter how many different reasons I come up with, it doesn't make any sense. Is it because of what happened to Bryce?" At that, his voice deflates. "Is it me? Do you hate me because I ruined your chances of getting out of here?"

That's when she snaps. Completely disregarding the walls she forced up when he walked through the door, Sarah whips around and stares at Chuck in disbelief.

"Is that what you think this is all about?" She nearly scoffs. "After everything we've been through, you can't honestly believe that!"

Chuck throws out his arms in exasperation. "I don't know, Sarah! What am I supposed to think? Two weeks ago you were all set to leave with Bryce to who-knows-where! Now Bryce is dead, you're still stuck with me and _this_," he thrusts a finger to his temple – "and you've been acting as if I have the freaking plague ever since! So yeah, I _do_ believe it. Maybe if you'd given me some indication of what's going on in _your _head for once –"

"_I wasn't going to leave!_"

Suddenly the CIA agent vanishes; now the only person standing before him is the emotional buildup that is Sarah Walker, her indestructible walls finally,_ finally_ crumbling to pieces.

"God_dammit_, Chuck," she yells, "I was willing to give up _everything_ to stay with you, to give you that _normal_ life you've been waiting for! I _wanted_ that with _you!_ And then you went and put that _computer_ back into your head and _screwed it all up!_"

Her cobalt eyes are wild, spewing over with the pent-up emotions she's been holding in for so long. "You know what, though? What makes this so messed up is that you did actually the _right_ thing!" She lets out a bitter laugh. "I called you a hero, Chuck, and that's exactly what you are! You could've had everything you ever wanted, but you chose to help the government instead – the same government that got you into this mess in the first place! You always put everyone before yourself – _I'm_ the one who's being selfish! So what am I supposed to say to you, Chuck? What did you _expect_ me to say after all of this?"

A ringing silence follows the outburst as Chuck stares at Sarah in utter shock. She knows she's said way too much, but she no longer cares. Her feelings and his, they don't matter. Not anymore. Angry tears flood to the surface, and she quickly turns away before Chuck has a chance to see them.

This is _exactly_ why she'd been avoiding him. Sure, it only held off the inevitable, and maybe she was only trying to save herself the impending hurt…but anything was better than dealing with this mess. She never wanted it to come to this. Because now…

Where are they supposed go from here?

_And maybe this is going too fast_

_And maybe it's not meant to last_

Chuck has gone completely still, gawking at Sarah's back as the implications behind her angry confession finally hits home.

"You weren't…" he croaks softly, barely breathing. "You weren't going to leave?"

Sarah doesn't answer, but Chuck doesn't need a response. Instead, Bryce's last words echo through his mind, and the color completely drains from his face.

…_She wasn't gonna come…she was…_

"You were going to stay," he whispers in horror. "And I…oh _god_…I ruined _everything_…"

"No," Sarah says quietly, when she finally has some semblance of composure. She leans her forehead against the window. "By uploading that new Intersect, you saved us all." She closes her eyes, suddenly exhausted. "But with that thing back in your head, we're right back to step one, and I just…I can't do this anymore, Chuck. I _can't_. I'm so tired of dealing with it."

Chuck is silent for a long time. For several minutes, the only sounds in the room are his slow, steady breaths, her only indication that he hasn't stormed off from her admission of defeat. She's terrified of what he might say next. Would he agree? Would he end things right here and now and send her packing to DC? Or would he yell at her for giving up, throw them both into an even further downward spiral? She braces herself, waiting for the worst –

"Then stop trying to fight it."

The words are so simple and unexpected that Sarah actually whirls around – and nearly collides into Chuck, who's suddenly right there in front of her. She stares up at him, stunned.

"W-what?"

"You're tired of dealing with it, so just stop fighting it," Chuck repeats, like he's never sounded so sure about anything in his life. "It's pretty obvious that I'm never going to have a normal life, Sarah, and neither are you. This _is_ our life, no matter how messed up it is. It's what our relationship is all about. Aren't you sick of always dancing around the fat fluorescent elephant in the room?"

Sarah tries to look away, but his chocolate eyes are gluing her to the spot. "It can't happen, Chuck, you know that," she says flatly. Even _she's_ fully aware of the fact that the phrase is beginning to sound like a broken record, but she continues anyway. "You're back to being an asset, which means I'm still your handler, and –"

"And we're going to end up spending the next two or however more years playing the will-they-won't-they game," Chuck interrupts, "in which Casey will either shoot himself or us, depending on the severity of the situation." He offers a wry smile. "I like to think it's the former, 'cause he can't really shoot the guy with the government computer in his brain, and we both know he can't handle me without you. All in all, though, not a very appealing thought."

It's absolutely ridiculous how he can make a joke out of such a serious topic, and all Sarah can do is gape at him in disbelief.

"Chuck, I'm being serious."

His smile dissolves into a straight face. "So am I."

Sarah sighs in frustration. "It's completely unprofessional –"

"Are you seriously still using that excuse?"

"Beckman'll reassign me –"

"You were there when she proved otherwise. Asset to the asset, remember?" Suddenly, Chuck's eyes harden, fixing her with a searching gaze. "Can we please just stop this already? I'm so sick of excuses, Sarah. What are you running from?"

_Why are you running from us?_

"I don't want to lose you, alright?!" Sarah finally bursts out, backing away from him. "We don't even know what this new Intersect does, how it works, or what kinds of powers it'll give you! That alone is a big enough threat as it is, and that doesn't even _include_ The Ring!" Her emotions are going off the charts, but she can't seem to stop the words from pouring out of her mouth. "I can't afford to let my feelings for you get in the way of my job, Chuck! I can't afford to lose you! Why don't you _get _that?!"

Chuck closes the distance between them and tentatively slips his hands into hers. His eyes are warm; she can't look away even if she tries.

She's losing this war, and he knows it.

"Because," he says softly, "Your feelings for me are the reason you do your job so well. I _trust_ you, Sarah. I always have, and I always will. You won't let me down. Besides," he flashes his trademark heartmelting smile, "you, me, what we have…isn't it worth the risk?"

And just like that, the last of her defenses shatter to pieces. A dry sob escapes from her throat, and Sarah reaches behind his neck to pull his lips down to hers. Chuck gathers her into his arms, welcoming the kiss as they melt together in a moment of chaotic passion.

_But what do you say to taking chances?_

_What do you say to jumping off the edge?_

_Never knowing if there's solid ground below_

_Or a hand to hold, or hell to pay_

When oxygen becomes an issue, Sarah finally pulls away, looking more vulnerable than Chuck has ever seen her before. Slipping her arms around his torso, she buries her face into the crook of his neck.

"I'm so sorry, Chuck."

Chuck runs a hand through her blonde tresses. "It's alright. I think we just both needed to get a few things off our chest. It's been a rough two weeks."

She looks up at him, cobalt eyes searching his. "It's going to be even tougher, you know. We're bound to have problems."

"Trust me, I believe it."

"And protecting you is still my top priority."

"I figured it would be, what with the whole top-secret government computer being in my head and all."

Sarah hesitates, suddenly self-conscious. "I'm not…I'm not all that great with relationships, Chuck. I don't know how to express my feelings all that well."

Chuck shrugs. "Well, I express my feelings way too much. Opposites attract, maybe?"

Sarah whacks him on the arm. "I'm serious! I have no idea how to deal with this, Chuck!" She bites her lip uncertainly. "What if…what if something goes wrong?"

Chuck lets out a soft chuckle. "We're going to be alright, Sarah. We'll make it work. You're worth every moment."

It's been two weeks since that fateful day, since everyone was hurtled right back into the chaos known as the Intersect. But now, for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile finally appears on Sarah Walker's lips. Eyes sparkling mysteriously, she slips a hand behind his neck.

"Well then, Chuck…are you ready for this?"

His grin is the only answer she needs.

_What do you say?_

* * *


	14. Entry Twelve

* * *

_Entry Twelve_

_-_

Chuck adjusted his shoulders, allowing his pack to resettle against his back. He wiped the sweat from his brow and squinted up at the treetops. The air was hot and heavy; the clouds visible through the trees were an ominous color. It was as if the weather reflected his mood—dark and irritable. Trudging along the narrow trail, he wondered again what he was doing in the middle of a national park. _Orders_. The new Intersect had taken everyone by surprise, and Team Bartowski had essentially fallen apart. Casey was more sullen than usual and Sarah was short-tempered. Chuck tried to pretend that nothing had changed, when in fact, everything had changed.

"Get a move on," said Casey abruptly.

Chuck blinked his eyes and turned to glance back at Casey. "I'm moving," he said. "How much farther?"

"You're like a damn kid, always asking if we're there yet," responded Casey with a grunt.

Chuck stopped and turned to face him. "You know what, Casey? I'm getting a little tired of the snide remarks."

Casey glared at him and took a step closer. "Oh, really?" he snarled.

Sarah came up from behind Casey and walked past them both. "We have another mile to go, and you're both starting to piss me off," she said. "No more talking. Let's just get there and get this over with." She took the lead, setting a brisk pace.

Chuck narrowed his eyes at Casey, but thought better of saying anything more. He turned to follow Sarah, and Casey brought up the rear. Chuck dreaded this excursion. Much to the surprise of everyone, he had protested even more than Casey. But General Beckman was adamant. It was either this or a ticket to some lovey-dovey team building conference. When given the choice, all three of them opted for an overnight in the park. _You need to find whatever it was that made you a good team_, Beckman had said. Chuck scowled. _This isn't going to work_. Team Bartowski was a thing of the past. He had wrecked everything, and it was only a matter of time before Beckman and everyone else would realize it.

They arrived at the secluded campsite and shed their packs. Sarah pointed to a cleared area. "Set up the tent there. I'll build the fire."

Chuck sat down on a log and stretched his arms and shoulders. He found himself unable to keep his eyes off Sarah; her long blonde pony tail swayed as she stooped and searched for small twigs. She snapped off a few branches from a dead tree and carried the wood to the fire pit. She knelt beside it and layered the tinder and small twigs, forming a teepee over the bundle with the larger branches. She looked up at him suddenly, and he looked away quickly, scanning the surrounding forest. Did he just see the ghost of a smile on her lips?

"Hey, moron," called Casey. "Quit being a looky-loo and get over here."

Chuck cringed and his face flushed bright red. He stood up to join Casey, who had started setting up the tent. He glanced quickly at Sarah, who had busied herself with starting the fire. He grabbed one end of the long titanium pole and the other end flipped up and smacked Casey across the forehead as he was leaning down to grab it.

"What the. . .?" started Casey. He rushed at Chuck.

Chuck turned to escape and forgot he still held the pole in his hand. It swung along the ground as he turned, directly into Casey's path. Casey tripped over the pole and fell flat on his face. Chuck's eyes widened and he dropped the pole, backing away from Casey slowly.

"Dammit, Chuck!" Casey picked himself up and stood there, fuming.

"Casey, I'm sor. . ." Chuck began. Not seeing his pack on the ground behind him, he tripped and fell backwards over it, landing on his backside.

There was silence for a moment, and then Sarah let out a loud guffaw. Both men turned to look at her with surprise. She covered her mouth with her hand, but another laugh escaped. "I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "It's just that. . ." She laughed again. "It's been so long. . ." Her eyes watered and she turned away, tending to the small fire.

Chuck looked up at Casey with a half-smile on his face. Casey's expression had also softened, and he returned to the tent. _She laughed_, thought Chuck. He hadn't heard her laugh in nearly a month. Twenty-three days, actually. But even as the tiny bit of hope flared within, he squashed it_. It doesn't matter._

Chuck and Casey finished setting up the large tent, and discovered that there were two rods left over. Casey surreptitiously tossed them into the underbrush, shrugging his shoulders in response to Chuck's questioning look.

Even with the fall of dusk, the air remained very warm, and the whine of mosquitoes intensified. Soon, all three of them were slapping at themselves regularly, having forgotten to bring insect spray. They sought refuge near the fire, where the smoke kept most of the irritating bugs away.

"Well," said Casey. "Let's eat and get inside the tent before we're eaten alive."

Chuck and Sarah nodded their agreement, and the three of them stared at each other for a moment.

Sarah spoke first. "Didn't you bring the food, Casey?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "I thought you were bringing it."

"Why did you think that?" she asked, her voice taking on a hard edge.

Casey stammered a little. "Because. . ." he began. "Because you're the girl, and the girl is supposed to have the dinner ready." He nodded firmly, and then looked to Chuck, who gave Casey a what-the-hell-are-you-saying look. Less certain of himself, Casey looked back at Sarah.

"I am an agent, not a Suzy homemaker," she said, glaring at him in the dim firelight.

Chuck cleared his throat. "Um, guys?" He smacked his own face. The fire had begun to die, and the mosquitoes were moving in like a horde of miniature vampires. "I have some candy in my pack."

Casey kicked some dirt over the fire and they made their way to the tent by moonlight, because nobody remembered to pack a flashlight. Chuck searched his pack blindly and found the small bag of Reese's peanut butter cups. The chocolate had melted, but they made short work of eating it all.

Chuck had used a foot pump to inflate three mattresses earlier, and they were spread out along the floor of the tent. Casey and Sarah each took an end one, and Chuck collapsed onto the middle mattress. There was a loud rustling from Sarah's side of the tent.

"What are you doing?" Chuck whispered.

"I'm not going to sleep in my fatigues with all this damn heat," she replied, pulling on a pair of cotton shorts and a cami top.

There was silence for a moment, and then Chuck and Casey removed their clothing as well, deciding to sleep in their boxers and tee-shirts.

Chuck lie quietly, his shirt dampening with sweat. There was a rumble of distant thunder, and he hoped that the coming rain would drown out his thoughts. He returned again and again to the moment of his decision to re-Intersect himself. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now, he wasn't so sure.

Suddenly, there was a high-pitched whooshing of air. Chuck opened his eyes and sat up. "What's that?" he whispered, preparing to leap out of the tent. Casey had already grabbed his gun.

"Oh, damn!" muttered Sarah.

"Sarah?" Chuck whispered.

She sighed loudly. "I guess I should have removed the knife holster on my ankle. One of the knives stabbed a hole into the mattress."

Chuck managed to hold in his laugh, but there was a distinct snort from Casey's side of the tent.

Lightning flashed just then, and a crack of thunder boomed directly overhead. The rain began to fall, slowly at first, but soon it was a downpour. It collected on the roof of the tent, which partially collapsed over Casey's head. A long tear appeared along the fabric, and the rain drizzled in over Casey's head. Chuck glanced over and saw Casey illuminated by a flash of lightning; he looked like a drowned rat in a New York sewer.

"Maybe that's where those rods were supposed to go," Chuck offered.

Casey glared at him in the darkness. "Bartowski," he growled, lying back down and covering his face with his jacket. "If you say one more word tonight. . ."

Chuck swallowed hard and lay back down. Silence ensued as the storm raged.

-

A flock of crows cawed in the trees overhead, and Chuck opened his eyes. He hadn't slept much; the storm had lasted long into the night. _Thank God it's finally morning_, he thought. Suddenly, he realized that an arm was draped over his chest. Looking over, he saw that Sarah had joined him during the night. Still asleep, she snuggled closer to him, seeking some warmth in the cool morning air. Her mattress was completely deflated. He glanced over at Casey, and realized with a start that the big guy wasn't there. The smell of a campfire filled the air, and there was the crunching of leaves outside the tent. He looked again at Sarah; her eyes were open, and she smiled softly.

"Good morning, Chuck," she said, stretching out and moving away from him.

"Uh, yeah," he said.

"Hope I didn't crowd you," she said.

"No, nope, not at all." He watched as she stood and put on his jacket. He sat up and pulled on his pants. They emerged from the tent and they stood there for a moment, staring at the sight before them. Casey was hunkered down next to the fire, cracking eggs into a large pan. Bacon sizzled next to the eggs.

Casey gestured toward a metal pot sitting off to one side. "Coffee," he said.

"Casey," Chuck said with awe. "Where did all this come from?"

"That's for me to know," Casey replied.

Sarah raised her eyebrows.

Casey sighed. "Fine. There's an older couple living just over that hill. We have to return the cooking gear when we're done."

Sarah poured the coffee, and Casey divided the breakfast onto three plates.

They ate quietly, listening to the chatter of morning birds. Chuck thought back to Beckman. _You need to find whatever it was that made you a good team. _He realized now that they had never lost it, it was always there, deeply rooted. He smiled. For the first time in a long while, his thoughts were no longer dominated by the Intersect.

"What is it Chuck?" asked Sarah. Casey also looked at him.

"Nothing. I'm good." His smile widened. "We're good," he said firmly.

Sarah rose and came to sit by him, taking his hand in hers. She bumped his shoulder with hers. "I'm glad."

Casey nodded his head. "Yeah."

They sat together for a long time, and the flock of crows cawed overhead.

The End

* * *


	15. Entry Thirteen

_Entry Thirteen_

_-_

"Let me get this straight," Chuck started dryly. "We're going to a club, and you want me to be a bartender. What a change from all pre-two-point-oh missions, Casey. Don't you ever think maybe that the bad guys are going to start suspecting the wait staff someday soon?"

"Well, unless you have a better idea, _Chuckles_," Casey bickered just as flatly, poking him in the chest, "we're both going in as bartenders. It was either that, or picking up the live performance, and that was-"

"I can do that."

"What?" Casey asked sharply, and Chuck merely shrugged, staring right back at him.

"I can do that," he replied. "Performing. Better vantage point, too. You can't always see everything from the bar." He gestured at the blueprints for the club that Casey had pinned up on the wall. "From the stage, you can see everything."

"So what – the intersect has a one-man rock band 101 crash course or something?" Casey joked stiffly, and Chuck gave him a wry smirk.

"No," he said flatly. "I just know some people. See you there."

Casey let out a low growl as the darker-haired man left the room, not waiting for a reply. He sniffed slightly, glancing at his blonde partner – silent and watching from her spot at his table.

"Can't you get him even just a little under control?" he asked gruffly. "He hasn't been following mission protocol at all ever since the upgrade." He forgot to mention that Chuck's streak of breaking said protocol was probably what was making all of their most recent missions such stunning successes, but that wasn't his point.

"You aren't doing such a bang-up job yourself," Sarah observed simply, sounding just as irritated as Casey and turning her eyes back to the laptop screen in front of her. Casey sneered.

"Well at least I'm treating him the same as before," he retorted dryly, and Sarah stiffened up at the reference. Chuck-Sarah communication had been at an all time low since Bryce's death and Chuck's re-upload. Admittedly, that was mostly her fault, and Sarah hadn't found it in herself to be the better person and correct it.

Probably because she was still pissed off that he'd re-intersected himself without any regard to her.

"Yeah, well, he's _not_ the same as he was before," she said quickly, agilely, and Casey rolled his eyes, letting out a grunt – sceptical with a side of fed up.

"That's no excuse for treating him like any other two-bit analyst in the world," he grumbled, crossing his arms stiffly. "And I think – oh, god, I can't believe I'm doing this…" he growled to himself, slightly disgusted at his own behaviour. He'd been avoiding this post for two years, and he really wasn't proud to give into it now. "I think you need to get out those lady feelings of yours, suck it up like an agent, and start treating Chuck like… god, anything better than you are. So if you need to talk, now would be the time to do it."

Sarah turned a slightly amused gaze to him, watching the older man as he seemed almost ill at his own words. She figured it was the result of him sucking up his pride and doing what he'd sworn never to do – advocate for some gushy romantic feeling.

John Casey was no-one's bitch, after all, and 'love's least of all.

"I'm good," Sarah told him quickly, trying to save him – and, truth be told, herself – the mortification of this conversation. Casey merely grimaced and moved to sit stiffly down next to her, frowning deeply and looking as irritated as she'd ever seen him. He'd set his mind to this, Sarah realised, and there would be no escape, no matter how painful the actual act was for the both of them.

Another thing that John Casey was not, was an easy win.

"Here's the deal, Walker," he said gruffly. "You can spill your guts now, or I can get Beckman to pretty much permanently bench you for psychological assessment."

She narrowed her eyes at the concealed threat, and Casey merely waved his hands.

"Don't give me that look," he said. "It's your only option. The way I see it, Bryce's death, or Chuck's volunteering, or something in that mess of events six weeks ago has got you all up in a tizzy. And here's the thing – you can tell me, and let it out, and I'll keep it quiet," he explained stiffly, but possibly also in the gentlest tone she'd ever heard him use. "Or, you can wind up reassigned, reassessed, fired for being compromised in the first place – any of those, all discovered on the grounds that you've recently not been in your right mind and showing strange fluxes in behaviour."

"…Is this your version of caring and sharing?" Sarah asked sarcastically, and Casey growled rather unhappily.

"No," he answered rather curtly. "This is my version of trying to help out my partner, and my…" Dare he say it. "…_Friend_. So sarcasm isn't going to get you anywhere, Walker. Out with it."

She stared at him for a moment, assessing, curious, reluctant, and yet with an unmistakable, huge urge to blurt out her every problem since Ellie's wedding. She grimaced, looking away from Casey, unable to say it all to him while she looked at him.

"…And you won't tell anyone?" she asked after a moment. Casey flexed his jaw, still completely detesting his part in the angsty little tryst the two others on his team had going.

"Not a soul," he promised simply.

Sarah nodded, staring at her hands while she clasped them. She spent several minutes in silence, contemplating what to tell him. Only after she'd figured out how to explain to him did she open her mouth to speak.

"I was going to leave the CIA," she said simply, and her gaze quite suddenly lifted to the opposite wall while she was struck dumb. There were a lot of other things she was originally going to say to him, but as soon as that simple statement left her lips, she couldn't help but have the words fall short.

She'd never said it out loud before. The vocalisation gave the statement weight – when it was just in her head, she didn't think it ever really struck home. And with that weight and truth behind it, behind the soundwaves, came the crushing reality that she'd been so close to being _free_.

"To stay with Chuck?" Casey asked quietly. Sarah nodded dully, stunned.

"I wasn't going to, originally," she said after a quick hesitation. "I… I was going to go with Bryce, head the intersect project. But at the wedding, there was just this moment where it was all so completely _clear_. I _couldn't _leave him – I still can't. I want for the rest of my life to be with him."

"So where's the problem?" Casey asked, a slight scoff behind his words, and Sarah frowned, knowing what he was thinking. Chuck had downloaded the intersect 2.0 and Sarah was still assigned as his handler. It wasn't as though there were continents between them, and Casey clearly wasn't stopping her. But odds were, despite the question, Casey knew exactly what her problem was.

"...I wanted normal."

"No you didn't," Casey retorted dryly, but she ignored him.

"Yeah I did," she said, eyes staring blankly at the table in front of her. "But because I didn't tell him I was going to stay with him, he went and re-uploaded the intersect because he thought it was the only way he could get me to stay."

"No, he didn't," Casey said, just as offhandedly and bluntly as before.

"And I can't get it out of my head that if I'd just told him before I went off to save Bryce, he wouldn't have followed me and downloaded the intersect again, and then we wouldn't be in this situation."

"No, he wouldn't," Casey grumbled, hitting his head against his clenched fist several times over.

"It's Chuck. I know he would have waited for me."

"And if you'd asked him instead of making assumptions, Walker, you'd know that he wouldn't have waited," Casey explained bluntly. "That's all you had to do. Walk up and say 'Chuckles, why'd you upload it again?' and he'd have told you, just like that, and you wouldn't be torturing yourself, or him, with all this girly, gushy angst of yours."

Ignoring the comment on girly feelings, Sarah replied. "And how do you know that?"

"Because _I _asked," Casey said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sarah frowned slightly, realising he had a point. "After one of our sparring sessions. And he looked straight back at me and said he realised something – he's far above and beyond being normal now. He'd rather save the world, he reckons it gives him meaning. And using the intersect is something only he can do, in case you haven't noticed – Chuck's special. He didn't do it to keep you here, Walker, because he thought you'd be happier off saving the world with Larkin anyway, and if that was where you wanted to be he wasn't going to stop you, simple as that. He downloaded it because he's just that kind of guy."

Sarah stared back at him, reasonably put out, and Casey rolled his eyes.

"Believe it or not, Walker, Bartowski's entire world does not revolve around _you_," he said dryly. "Given the choice and all truths, Chuck still would've taken the intersect in some attribution to his own sense of nobility and duty. If he hadn't, you'd have either made excuses to leave straight away, with or without Larkin, or you'd have stayed, gotten bored out of your head, and ran away in a few months, which would've hurt him. And he didn't take it to keep you here, Sarah, because Chuck Bartowski doesn't care about keeping you _here_ – he cares about keeping you _happy_."

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, holding her gaze and making sure that he'd gotten the message across. When her face had changed to match the sheer comprehension within her – properly politely stunned – Casey nodded and got to his feet, intending to get on with his mission prep.

"That's right," he grumbled. "Deal with it."

* * *


	16. Entry Fourteen

* * *

_Entry Fifteen_

-

Sarah scanned the room before finally finding her target. She took in a breath before heading over and paused when she finally reached the table.

"If it isn't Sarah Walker herself," Carina said as she kicked the other chair out for Sarah to sit in. "Here, take a seat."

"This isn't a social visit," Sarah informed as she took her seat across from Carina.

"So great to see you too," Carina remarked dryly. She turned to look at a group of waiters who were staring at them and motioned for one of them to come over. Almost immediately a young man came over to the table.

"Hi there Mark," Carina said as she squinted at the man's nametag before flashing him a brilliant smile. "My friend and I would like to order some drinks."

"Uh sure, what would you like?" he asked.

"Carina…" Sarah warned.

Carina, however, waved her hand in dismissal. "Please, one drink won't kill you," she pointed out before turning her attention back to the waiter. "Why don't you just surprise us?" With one last flash of her smile the boy finally nodded and then scampered off.

"Why do you do that?" Sarah asked shaking her head.

"Do what?" Carina asked innocently.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Why do I even put up with you?"

Carina grinned. "Please, I'm just giving the kid a thrill."

A moment later the waiter returned with two drinks on his tray. "Here you go, two Long Island Iced Teas," he stated seemingly proud of his selection.

Carina smiled. "I'm impressed, you actually brought us something strong. Thank you Mike." The waiter, who before appeared happy, now looked both hurt and confused at Carina. "You can go now," Carina clarified.

"You're such a bitch," Sarah exclaimed with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Carina seemed confused and then realized what she did. She simply just shrugged, "I'm bad with names and honestly I don't really care."

"Don't worry Carina, none of this is surprise to me," Sarah replied before taking a sip of her drink.

"So," Carina said getting serious. "I assume you are here because of Kurt Stromberg."

"My team is getting involved with him and I wanted to make sure this wasn't a repeat of the last time we saw each other, you know when you almost left me for dead and ruined my cover," Sarah explained.

"Please, the mission was successful and no permanent damage done." Carina reminded her.

"I'm not here to argue. Is there anything else I should be aware of?" Sarah asked.

"Not that I can think of," Carina replied.

Sarah just stared at her friend and started to open her mouth only to quickly shut it.

"What?" Carina asked.

"I heard he's in love with you," Sarah confessed.

Carina raised an eyebrow. "Your point being?"

"Carina don't you think you're getting in a little too deep?" Sarah asked concerned.

"That is rich coming from you," Carina remarked. "And don't worry, he is just like Casey."

"I really didn't need to know that," Sarah groaned.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," Carina hissed. "I meant he appears to be tough but in reality he's a softy."

"First of all I'm telling Casey you said that and secondly, I don't think he'd be so nice if he found who you worked for," Sarah cautioned.

"I'll be fine," Carina said with her usual confidence. "He won't hurt me."

"Yeah I'm sure he is an arms dealer with a heart of gold," Sarah muttered.

"Well we don't all get to be paired with the Chucks of the world, now do we," Carina retorted.

For the first time Sarah couldn't tell if Carina was teasing her or being serious. "Are you actually involved with him?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"You know Sarah there are still people who can have a cover relationship without _actually _developing feelings for the other person, shocking as that may be," Carina smirked.

"Look, I was just trying to help," Sarah simply stated.

Carina just shook her head and smiled. "Well stop worrying about it, I've got in under control. Why don't we get off the subject of me and move onto you," she suggested.

"What about me?" Sarah asked.

"I heard Chuck became an agent, is that true?" Carina asked curiously.

Sarah sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, as this was not a subject she wanted to talk about. "It's true," she finally admitted.

"That should make you happy as now you can sleep with him. Well that's assuming you haven't already," Carina said with a wink.

Sarah flushed slightly and looked down at her glass.

"Really Sarah? You are ridiculous," Carina admonished. "Well I know what I'm getting you for Christmas."

"Carina!" Sarah yelled and then quickly quieted down as she realized where she was.

Carina quickly put her hands out in front of her in defense. "I'm just kidding. I mean really this isn't a joking matter and I don't know how you live like that but we'll move on if you want."

Sarah took a big gulp of her drink, "Thanks. Can we just drop this whole topic?"

"Come on Sarah, what's wrong?" Carina prompted. "We both know despite what some people may think you were never good at hiding your feelings."

"I'm just a little frustrated, that's all," Sarah admitted.

"Well there is an easy solution for that. This is what you should do. Grab him, take him to your hotel and then have your way with him. It really isn't that complicated," Carina said as if she was talking to a five year old. "You'll relieve the tension and problem solved."

"That isn't even the issue and besides I can't just do that," Sarah explained.

"Why not?" Carina exclaimed. "It isn't like Chuck would complain."

"Because I—" Sarah started but then stopped as there was no way she was having this conversation with Carina. "I just can't, I'm not that type of person."

Carina looked at her in shock as realization set in. "I can't believe it. I mean I knew you liked him but I didn't think it was to this point."

Sarah didn't know if it was her or the alcohol at this point but all of a sudden she couldn't stop herself. "I was going to leave you know."

"You should," Carina stated truthfully. "I think you're beyond the point of no return."

"No," Sarah said shaking her head. "You don't understand. I was going to leave the agency."

"Wow," Carina finally said. "Trading in your gun for keys to a minivan. I wouldn't have the balls,"

"Please, like I would ever give up my Porsche," Sarah joked.

It was so much easier for to make light of the situation, as the gravity of it was too much for Sarah to think about. At times she honestly felt like she was being thrashed around on a raging torrent of emotions with no lifesaver in sight. Sarah didn't say anything further as there was nothing left to say. Carina had no experience in this situation before and probably thought she was crazy and delusional for thinking it could work between her and Chuck. Honestly, Sarah would probably agree. "Anyway, it really doesn't matter now," Sarah said quietly.

Silence fell over them again and after a moment Carina spoke. "Doesn't it bother you that in around the two years since we last saw each other literally nothing has changed?"

"More than you know," Sarah muttered.

"Hmm, maybe I should pay a little visit," Carina suggested.

"Don't Carina," Sarah warned. "I don't need to deal with Morgan."

"Who?" Carina asked.

"Chuck's friend, the one you went on a date with," Sarah trailed off.

Carina nodded her head. "Oh yeah, the bearded gnome. How is he?"

"Like you care," Sarah retorted.

"You're right, I don't. Look, if I come back I'll try to behave but no guarantees," Carina told Sarah with a grin.

"Fantastic," Sarah voiced sarcastically,

"Look I have to go but I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon. Oh and be sure tell Martin I miss him." With that Carina got up and left while giving one last smile to the group of gawking waiters.

Sarah sighed as she downed the rest of her drink. This was going to be a long week.

* * *


	17. Entry Fifteen

_Entry Fifteen_

-

Chuck held the scuffed quarter in the palm of his hand. "Heads we live, tails we die." He flipped the coin over to show his companion the back side.

Casey grunted noncommittally and pushed Chuck's hand away from his face. "I'm not flipping a coin to decide whether I live or die, Bartowski."

"Why not? You've got a better idea?" Chuck asked stubbornly.

Casey chambered a round into his Sig Sauer P228 and fired off a shot at the group of stacked crates on the other side of the warehouse. They had been more or less surrounded for the better part of the last 10 minutes. Chuck was getting antsy, and truth be told, he wasn't feeling much better either. Normally, he didn't mind five to one odds, but normally he didn't only have Chuck as his partner. The idiot had come a long way since he started to put Intersect 2.0 through its paces, but he still had a lot to learn.

"Yeah, moron, don't die," Casey said simply, with the requisite unsaid snide remark of 'Duh, you idiot' thrown in for good measure.

The crates returned Casey's fire.

"We all gotta die sometime, Casey. What makes now different from any other?"

Casey fired half his clip at the stack of crates and smiled in macabre satisfaction as at least two Ring agents let out cries of pain. "I'm not a big fan of this new Intersect of yours, Bartowski. It's turned you into Charlie Brown on Valium."

Chuck shrugged and lifted the S&W 5906—a gift from Sarah—awkwardly into the air. Despite all the training he'd received, even the Intersect downloads, he still wasn't completely comfortable with a live weapon in his hand. Still, he was discovering more and more as the weeks went by with Intersect 2.0 in his head that it was a necessary evil. He also fired several shots at the Ring agents hiding behind the crates.

"It's called being a pragmatist, Casey, you should try it some time."

Casey laughed a deep, coughing laugh and wiped an arm across his forehead once his laughs died down to a few barely audible chuckles. "How can you talk about pragmatism when you're willing to leave our potential survival to random chance?"

"It's not really random; I mean, 50/50 is not really all that random," Chuck said with a bit of defensive indignation.

"Chuck, if I didn't need you right now, and if I didn't think Walker would dismember me and scatter my remains across the greater Los Angeles area, I'd kill you myself and use you as a meat shield so I could get out of here. How's that for being pragmatic?" Casey asked with a quiet growl.

Chuck just stared at Casey blankly for several seconds and then broke out into a large, maniacal grin. "I like your style, Casey. Wanna flip for it?"

Casey tried to glare at his asset but couldn't stop the slight chuckle from escaping. He couldn't help it, the brief fantasy that played in his mind of finally killing Chuck was simply too amusing to ignore. He could get used to Bartowski's new sense of humor. Casey moved onto his knees, wormed his P228 through a crack between crates, and emptied the rest of his clip into the wall of Swiss cheesed crates across the way.

Chuck took several deep breaths in an attempt to psych himself up for what he was about to do. "All right, I guess it's time for some thrilling heroics." He moved into a sprinter's position, like he was about to burst out of the blocks.

Casey placed a heavy, restraining hand on Chuck's shoulder and held him in place. Chuck didn't think he could break free even if he wanted to. "I thought you wanted to flip a coin first?" Casey asked.

Chuck looked over his shoulder and shrugged. He said, "You were right, flipping a coin is stupid." Chuck wiggled and shook like a dog, and to his surprise, Casey's paw came flying off his shoulder. He changed into a crouch behind the tallest crate on his side of their shield. "Han Solo never trusted the odds either," he said with a grin over his shoulder.

Casey rolled his eyes and grunted in annoyance. "I am not having this argument with you again, Bartowski. I am NOT Chewbaca," Casey growled, his tone low and menacing. When Casey sounded like that, personal violence was imminent.

Chuck sighed in exasperation. "Have you even _seen_ Star Wars? How could you possibly be anything but Chewbaca?"

"I could be Lando," Casey said defensively.

Chuck sighed again, this time it was a very tired sigh, like they'd had this argument a million times. "I don't know how many times I have to say it, but Bryce is—" Chuck winced and frowned, "_was_ Lando. You're Chewie, Sarah is obviously Princess Leia, Morgan is R2, and Jeff and Lester are some weird, non fey combination of C3-PO."

"Are you sure you're not really Luke?" Casey teased, a smug smirk on his face.

Chuck's face transformed into a sickly grimace of horror. "Ew, Casey, ew!"

Two Ring agents came at them in a classic pincer maneuver. Chuck, having the best vantage point, dived to his left and took a bead on the man closest to him with his S&W. He fired twice, his first shot missing wildly, but his second shot just clipping the running Ring agent along his right thigh. The man's forward momentum sent him tumbling head first into the ground when his leg crumpled underneath him, his gun skittering loudly as it slid right to Chuck. Chuck scrambled for the gun, grabbed it, and started to crabwalk backwards as gunfire from the still cowering Ring agents tore up the concrete of the warehouse floor all around him. A large concrete flake sliced across his temple, sending blood dripping down his face and into his eyes.

He made it back behind cover just as Casey finished neutralizing the other assaulting Ring agent with a stiff clothesline to the chest and a sharp, quick snap of the man's neck.

Chuck was surprised that the Ring agent had even made it as far as he did, but he wasn't surprised at the ease with which Casey had dispatched the man.

Casey wiped his hands against his pants legs, like he was getting rid of some dust and said in a very self-satisfied tone, "That always reminds me of rice crispies when you pour milk on 'em."

"Snap, crackle, pop," Chuck quipped. He mimed rubbing his belly. "Mmmm…"

Casey frowned at Chuck and said disapprovingly, "Walker's right, this has got to stop."

"Stop what," Chuck asked in a tight voice.

"This…whatever it is that's wrong with you. It's got to stop."

Chuck made an angry gesture with his hand, the pilfered Ring agent's gun grasped firmly in the jerking hand. "Are we going to flip or not?"

"You just said you didn't want to flip…" Casey started to say.

"I changed my mind," Chuck snapped.

"Fine," Casey growled. He picked up the quarter from where it had fallen to the ground between them. "Heads, we wait for Walker to arrive with reinforcements. Tails, we make a break for it and probably die a slow and grisly death, but we maybe save the day." He stared intensely at Chuck and tried to get the younger man to see reason. "There could be blood, Chuck. _Your_ blood."

Chuck just pointed to the already dulling drops of blood on his shirt and then arched one of his eyebrows.

Casey sighed and said, "All right. Do you want to flip or should I?"

Chuck held out his hand. "I'm feeling lucky all of a sudden."

Casey just grunted and handed him the coin.

Chuck placed the quarter on his thumb and then pushed up.

The quarter flipped end over end until landing on the concrete floor with a sharp _ping_.

Casey grunted again and started to ready his P228 with a fresh magazine.

Chuck just snorted in quiet derision. "Like I said, lucky."

Casey cracked his neck and then his knuckles. He stretched slightly and prepared himself for sudden movement. "You know," he said conversationally, "if we somehow survive this, Walker is going to first kill you and then kill me for letting you go through with this insane plan."

Chuck just grinned, his eyes bright with amusement. "Hey, while she's killing me, you'll have a chance to run. Meat shield, remember?"

Casey snorted and grinned. Damn him. This was such a stupid idea. "I should force you to stay here."

"You could try and you'd probably succeed, but we both know that these days, that's no sure thing." Chuck sighed, suddenly feeling and sounding very tired. "You can stay if you want."

"Don't be insulting," Casey barked. He punched Chuck hard with his fist for even saying the words out loud.

Chuck nodded his head. He understood. He wished he didn't, he wished he hadn't lived a life where that kind of understanding was necessary. But he did, and this was his life now. Or at least it was.

Chuck gripped the S&W firmly in his hand and gave one last smile to Casey. "Come on, Butch, the Bolivians are waiting."

* * *


	18. Entry Sixteen

_Entry Sixteen_

-

"Agent Walker given your recent performance you are not to take place on the raid. You are to remain in the van with Bartowski and make sure that he does not leave it, use any means short of lethal force. Flirt with him, taser him, screw him, handcuff him do whatever it takes to keep him in the van." Beckman turned to the other two agents, "Agents Casey and Moss you will lead the strike team, questions?" She disconnected the teleconference without waiting for any.

Agent Elizabeth Moss turned to Casey, "Why's she being punished?" She whispered.

Casey gave his best grunt-laugh, "Because she promised Bartowski would stay in the van and he didn't." Casey than shot a menacing glare at Sarah and spoke up, "Although I'm not sure Agent Walker would classify spending time alone with Bartowski as a _punishment_. Isn't that right Walker?"

Sarah was already stomping up the stairs and away from Casey and his protégé. "Try and avoid getting shot without me backing you up Casey."

Liz called to Casey as she to left the briefing area, "I'm not sure I understand."

Casey smiled and stood up as he realized the younger agent was headed to the firing range. "Walker has a problem controlling her _feelings_."

-

A few hours later they all sat in the van outside the warehouse, "This should be a quick and simple little op. In fact we've made it so simple that even you shouldn't be able to screw it up Bartowski." Casey grumbled as he briefed his two other team members. "Walker good luck." He said before him and Agent Moss climbed out of the van.

Chuck turned to her, "Wait what did he mean by that?"

She couldn't look at Chuck, "I'm supposed to make sure you stay in the car."

"Wait they're making you stay in the van with me?"

She nodded, "Yeah I assume you won't be trouble?"

"I'm sorry, if I knew that you'd be stuck here I wouldn't have—this must be torture for you."

She gave him a weak smile, "I don't mind, I get to spend time with you." She told herself that she only said that because it would make things easier.

"Yeah, I know I never stay in the car—wait what?"

The shocked expression on his face gave her some confidence, "I like spending time with you and a few hours in a van away from all the surveillance certainly isn't something I'm going to complain about."

While the clarification brought some understanding, he still had far too many questions. What was she really saying? They sat in silence for awhile each with a small smile, but eventually Sarah shifted from the passenger seat to the backseat with Chuck.

"Sarah the surveillance is right there." Chuck said with a forced laugh as he pointed to the comm. suite in the back of the van.

"Yes, but right now there's no cameras or bugs to capture what we say and do. See I don't get why you don't like being here more, I mean it's quiet, there's no surveillance on you, and you can watch the feeds to make sure they aren't sneaking up on you." Sarah settled into the seat next to Chuck.

"Yeah, I guess you could look at it that way. Say how exactly are you supposed to keep me in the van? You can't hurt me."

"Anything short of lethal force."

"Anything?"

Her lips curled up in a predatory smile, "Anything, I've even got some handcuffs."

Chuck nervously swallowed the lump in his throat, "I think you can keep those, don't want to end up like Casey and Carina."

She shifted closer to him, practically onto his lap. "I'd never leave like Carina."

"We'd never get that far." He immediately regretted his poorly chosen words.

Silence descended upon the van as they looked at each other, both regretting Chuck's callous comment.

After a few moments of silent contemplation Sarah realized that his comment, and their little surveillance bubble, could be an opportunity. It hurt, not because it was designed to hurt, but because it was the truth.

"Would it make you feel better if we had sex right now?"

Chuck's jaw dropped open, "What! No! That's not what I meant."

"No. What if we did?"

"Sarah." Chuck groaned.

"I'm serious, Chuck. Would that make you feel better? Because Beckman gave me the okay for that. All you have to do is demand sex or you leave the van." It was a gamble, she hoped he wasn't like every other guy. Chuck has certainly defied her every single one of her expectations so far, blown every theory of hers out of the water, destroyed every single preconception about the other half she'd ever had. Not that she'd actually mind sleeping with Chuck, but the back of a surveillance van wasn't exactly where she wanted their first time to be.

Chuck's reaction wasn't one she had considered, "Is that all this is to you? One long drawn out seduction? Just one way after another of trying to keep me wrapped around your finger?" He reached for the door handle.

"No! Chuck please do _not_ reach for that door handle."

"Or what? You'll shoot me?"

"I'd have to lie to you."

"You haven't done that yet?"

"No."

That stayed his hand and before he had a chance to make one more move Sarah continued, "Chuck, I want more than a quickie in the back of this van, but if that's all you want than I can settle for that. I'm tired of fighting, I'm tired of denying this thing under the cover thing, I'm tired of going home to an empty hotel room every night when all I want to do is slip into your bed. I'm done, hell I was done at the second wedding. I'm out, done, I'm finished with this shit." She collapsed back into her chair, that had taken an emotional as well as a physical toll.

He placed her hand in his, "You mean that? You want something real?"

She couldn't bring herself to look at him and sadly shook her head up and down. Given the number of mixed signals, and false starts they'd had, she assumed he would want something, someone easier.

"So do I."

Her head tilted back up slowly. Both sought reassurances from the other that this was the truth. In the eyes of the other, each found it.

As they both leaned forward, about to engage in their long awaited kiss the driver side and passenger side doors opened. Simultaneous groans came from the back as Casey and Liz climbed into the van. Casey cast a quick look into the back, "Good job Walker you managed to keep your pants on." He said seriously.

"You suck Chuck, you couldn't seduce her? I mean with the way she looks at you! Hell a monkey could have done it." She turned and looked at Casey, "I'll pay you when we get to Castle." She before mumbling about unfair bets under her breath.

Sarah couldn't even try and wipe the stupid grin off her face, sure her pants were on currently, but they'd be off and forgotten before the end of the night. A quick glance confirmed he was thinking the same thing.

-

**The Next Morning**

Liz tapped her foot impatiently, Casey had gotten her out of bed bright and early and now those two had the unmitigated audacity to be late! She turned to Casey, "See we definitely had time for a quickie in the shower."

Casey just grunted, which was about what she had expected, he never would have risked being late for sex.

Finally the door opened up top and Sarah and Chuck walked in. Both Liz and Casey immediately rolled their eyes as the new couple walked in with obvious smiles on their faces.

"Could you two be any more obvious?" Liz asked with a smile of her own.

They each looked at one another and shrugged, "What?"

Casey just grunted.

Liz, however was angry and didn't notice the monitor behind her activating. "Seriously Chuck? You had to wait until after the mission to sleep with Sarah? You two couldn't have at least gotten to second base in the van? Hell we would have waited outside for you to finish. I mean I lost a _bet _do you have any idea how much I hate losing bets?" Throughout her speech Chuck and Sarah had continually attempted to make themselves as small as possible. Liz noticed both of them eying the staircase and judging whether they'd be able to make the exit.

"Agent Moss is there something you need to report between Agent Walker and Mr. Bartowski?" Beckman's voice boomed from the television behind Liz.

The newest agent spun around to face her boss, "Ma'am?" Liz asked awkwardly as an eerie silence descended across the room. Everyone knew what was going to happen, there was no denying it.

"General I have something to report." Sarah said grabbing Chuck's hand for support. He winced in pain as she squeezed it a bit too hard.

Beckman looked annoyed by the distraction, "What is it Agent Walker?"

Sarah looked at Chuck, "Ma'am I feel I should inform that I can no longer be objective in my protection of the Asset."

Beckman rubbed her temple, "Agent Walker I am the Director of the National Security Agency, I have to sift through all intelligence gathered from Echelon, the Intersect project, and quite a few other projects you don't have clearance to know about; do you really think that I care about who you're sleeping with? Do you think I stay up at night worrying about whether or not you and the Intersect are sleeping together? Walker what keeps me up at night is missing Plutonium supplies in unstable countries and other far worse things. I already ordered a 49-B that told me your special relationship works and as long as it gets results against Fulcrum and The Ring who am I to complain about how you foster that relationship? Now I have deteriorating situations in Waziristan, Kashmir, and the Taiwan Strait to attend to so if you have nothing else."

"What about the deteriorating situation in North Korea? Ma'am." Casey added.

"I dealt with that this morning, now begin the debriefing, before I ship one of you off to Myanmar."

Sarah smiled, she was getting to have her cake and eat it too.

* * *


	19. Entry Seventeen

_E__ntry Seventeen_

-

"Oh my God, Chuck!" Sarah gasped. "It's _huge!" _

"It's not that big," Chuck shrugged.

"Are you kidding me?" Sarah asked, excitedly. "It's like the biggest one I've ever seen! Well, except the one at the wedding."

"My, my, Agent Walker," Chuck grinned, "I thought being a spy and all you would have seen a ton of these. Though I must say, I am quite glad that I can impress."

"Hardy-har-har," Sarah said. "Can I taste it?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Chuck said. "Ellie _did _help me get it to be this perfect and she might not want you to ruin it. In fact, I don't even think I was supposed to show it to you yet."

"Please, Chuck?" Sarah said, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"Okay," Chuck said, pretending to sigh, "but be quick. Ellie will be back soon and I don't want to get caught."

"Come on, Chuck," Sarah rolled her eyes, "we're both adults. And we are in your apartment."

"It's Ellie's apartment too," Chuck pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah," Sarah mumbled. "We'll need to get an apartment of our own soon since Ellie and Awesome are married now. But, anyway, I'm still going to taste it."

"I'm not looking," Chuck said, turning his head away.

"Why not?" Sarah said, pouting.

"Because it's against Ellie's rules," Chuck said. "And, trust me, you do _not _want to do anything against Ellie's rules."

"Chuck, come on, Ellie won't be mad" Sarah said, "And even if she is, I can protect you from your sister."

"Will you just hurry up?" Chuck asked, worried. "Ellie and I spent a lot of time getting it this big and perfect just for you. I want you to tell me if you like it or not."

"But you don't want to get in trouble," Sarah smirked. "I see how it is. Fine."

Sarah casually swiped some of the white cream with her index finger. Licking her finger, Sarah said, "Mmmm, Chuck, this is amazing!"

"Thank you," Chuck said. "Now let's go before Ellie comes bac—"

Just then, Ellie walked into the kitchen where the young couple was carrying on their mischief. Instead of being angry like Chuck thought, she smiled.

"I swear, you two act just like five-year-olds sometime," Ellie laughed. "Just don't make a mess, okay?"

"Yeah, sis," Chuck said, relieved.

"Told you we would be fine," Sarah whispered, swiping some more of the cream. "Ellie, this is really good."

"Thanks, Sarah," Ellie said, as she put the groceries away. "Chuck and I worked hard on it. Luckily for us, my little brother knows what you like. I, honestly, had no idea."

"Yeah, well, he's always been good at knowing just what I like, haven't you, Chuck?" Sarah looked at her fake-maybe real-boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah," Chuck blushed, nodding.

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a knock on the door and both Casey and Morgan walked in.

"Hey, Chuck!" Morgan said. "Oh, wow! You got it out, man! Cool! Can I taste?"

"Uh…" Chuck shot a worried glance at Ellie and Sarah.

Ellie sighed, "It's up to Sarah."

"Well, Sarah?" Chuck asked, expecting her to say "no".

"Yeah, Morgan, go ahead," Sarah said, faking a smile.

"Ah, cool," Morgan said, excitedly. "Thanks, Sarah!"

Morgan swiped some of the white cream also. Casey grunted before taking some as well.

Ellie eyes went wide. She just couldn't stand watching her masterpiece being eaten anymore. "Guys," she said politely, "Can we save the rest for the party?"

The four other occupants of the kitchen groaned, but left the room. Sarah lingered, but Chuck was able to get her to the living room. Once away from the kitchen, Chuck leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Happy birthday, Sarah. I'm really glad that you like your cake."

Later that day, everyone was gathered around the Bartowski dinner table. Chuck, Ellie, Devon, Morgan, Casey, Lester, Jeff, Anna, Big Mike, Emmett, and, at the center of attention, Sarah.

"…and many more!" the whole room chorused, much to Sarah's embarrassment.

"Make a wish, Sarah!" Chuck urged.

Sarah took a moment to reflect on what she wanted to wish for, even though she knew from experience that wishing on birthday candles never worked. She looked around the table at all of the people she had met on this assignment. Every single one of them, Casey included, had accepted her into their misfit family. She felt as if she belonged and that's all she ever wanted.

She almost blew the out the candles without making a wish, but that meant bad luck. And an agent knew to avoid bad things, even if it was just superstitious. So she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and silently wished for the only thing that she desired for at that moment. Opening her eyes, she blew out the candles. As everyone clapped and wished her a happy birthday, she looked at Chuck.

Chuck looked back at Sarah. Their gazes locked for a brief second before Chuck leaned in next to Sarah. He whispered, "Did you make a wish?"

Sarah nodded and said, "But I'm not going to tell you, because then it won't come true."

"Yeah, but if you don't tell me, then I can't make it come true," Chuck said, smiling his 1000-watt Bartowski smile.

"Hmm," Sarah said, with a playful look on her face, "then I guess you'll just have to do everything you can think of to try to make my wish come true."

"Guess so," Chuck said as he leaned, kissing her.

"Ugh," Casey grunted, watching the two, "get a room."

Chuck and Sarah hastily, yet regretfully broke the kiss, embarrassment written on both of their faces, as the rest of the Bartowski clan broke into laughter and instantaneous applause.

* * *


	20. Entry Eighteen

_Entry Eighteen_

-

Sarah felt the weight of the knife in her hand. She examined the blade, drawing the edge across her thumb nail. Unsatisfied, she went to the leather strop (she had brought it from her apartment for this exact purpose), and pulled the blade across the fine abrasive surface over and over, falling into a familiar rhythm. Testing the edge once more with the tip of her thumb, she returned to the counter.

With skill Morgan would envy, she let the knife fly, slicing easily through tender flesh. One after another, she decimated her victims; panting slightly, her hands dripping red, she surveyed her work. She had sliced more tomatoes than the Subway would use for a week. At least she felt better. Something about knives just put her mind at ease.

The bell on the door clanked and Sarah looked up in anticipation. To her disappointment Jeff and Lester walked in. Since she had opened the Subway in place of the Orange Orange last month, they had been her most regular customers.

"Hey, Beautiful," Lester said. "We are two hungry men…if you know what I mean."

Sarah refrained from an eye roll and settled on a neutral smile. "What can I get you?"

"Five," Jeff sang and held up his spread out fingers, "five dollar footlong."

Lester silenced his performing friend with an elbow to the ribs. "Jeff here would be happy with a footlong. They_ are_ delicious." Lester leaned up against the counter and licked his lips. "What about you Sarah? Chuck's been gone for a long time; are you hungry for a footlong?" He raised his eyebrows and parted his lips, what Sarah assumed, must have been intended as a sensual expression.

Without losing eye contact with Lester, Sarah spun a large knife from under the counter and slammed it point down into the cutting board in front of Lester's face. In a sweet voice she said, "No, Lester, this little footlong is all I need while Chuck is away."

"Oh!" Lester squeaked. "I mean…"

"That's a nice knife," Jeff supplied. "I bet it's good at cutting…and stuff."

"Wow, look at the time," Lester said, pulling Jeff towards the door by the arm. "We've got to go,"

"But what about my footlong?" Jeff whined.

"Just forget about your footlong," Lester grumbled, "It only gets you into trouble."

The door bell clanged as they left the store.

Sarah stared at the door long after they were gone.

-

Chuck looked anxiously out the window of the car. He was excited to finally be seeing landmarks he recognized: the bowling alley where the Burbank Buymore team won the corporate title, the marina where he had blown up Casey's Crown Vic, the hotel where he had diffused his first bomb.

In a lot of ways it felt like coming home from summer camp. He was glad because he would be back with people he loved. He was nervous because he didn't know how he would fit in with those people after all that had happened.

As soon as team Bartowski had reported to the General about the upload of the New Intersect, Chuck had been immediately whisked away to Camp Peary for super spy training. In three months on base, he had learned to use firearms, munitions and hand to hand combat. He had learned the physiological aspects of espionage, deception and seduction. The trainer there had deemed his performance "barely satisfactory" but Chuck didn't agree; he thought he had done darn well for a nerd from Burbank.

In addition to the basic CIA stuff Chuck work on mastering the New Intersect. His physical responses to flashes were varied and often unexpected. Even after three months, he felt as if he was just barely getting them under control; but the government must have thought he had control enough; they were letting him go. They wouldn't let him go back to Casey and Sarah if they thought he was still dangerous – would they?

"Sir?" he heard the driver say. He was a large burly man, whose neck was the size of Chuck's head.

"You know you don't have to call me sir. You can just call me Ch..I mean, Agent Carmichael, or just…agent…agent would be fine."

"Sir," the driver repeated, "would you please stop hitting my seat."

Chuck looked down at his foot bobbing up and down against the back of the driver's seat. He uncrossed his legs and tried to sit up straighter. "Sorry about that," he said sheepishly.

-

Casey strode out the door, relieved to have a small break from Buymoria hell. What was the general thinking sending him back to the Buy More? Didn't she know that a person would go crazy in that place? If it weren't for the release of the new Grill Master 500 to distract him, Casey might have been forced to slit Emmett's throat with the blunt edge of his own plastic name badge. The mental image made one corner of Casey's mouth turn up – almost a smile.

He pushed through the door of the Subway and the bell clanked. Sarah looked up from behind the counter; a small expression of disappointment crossed her face.

"So sorry, I'm not your lover-boy," Casey said.

Sarah ignored him and turned away. He heard the familiar quick tap, tap, tap of her knife against the wooden board. She hadn't exactly been the most pleasant person to be around since Chuck left for 'The Farm'. At first she was always angry, then sad, then depressed, and now anxious. He would have slipped some Paxil in her coffee, if he'd thought it would help.

Casey walked past the counter and toward the back room entrance to the Castle. He was punching in his access code when the chopping noise stopped and he heard her ask, "So, have you heard anything or not?"

Casey leaned in to the control panel for the retina scan. "You were at the briefing. I know the same as you." The door clicked, Casey pulled the heavy door open; he turned to Sarah, "Don't worry, Chuck will be back soon and then you can pick up playing footsie right where you left off."

Finding only fleeting pleasure in his little dig, and knowing better then to hang around Sarah when she had a knife in her hand, Casey entered Castle and took the metal stairs down by twos. Secretly, he didn't blame Sarah for missing the little twerp; he missed him too. At the bottom of the stairs he looked at the empty control room and realized he didn't have anything to do. The monitors blinked silently. _You better get home soon, Chuck, _he thought,_ or Sarah is going to go crazy and I'm going to die of boredom._

_-_

Chuck wiped his sweaty palms across his black wool slacks. They were getting closer to home now, and he couldn't get Sarah out of his mind. When he first told her he had uploaded the New Intersect, she was shocked. But then her face twisted into this look: It wasn't anger, like he expected; it was more like – betrayal. That's the best way he could describe it. She was almost free from him, free from serving yogurt, hanging out with his geeky friends and having to hold his hand every minute, and he had stolen that freedom from her when he had uploaded the New Intersect.

At least she was free of one thing. Neither she nor Casey would have to hold his hand any more. The hard bulge of his concealed handgun was a constant reminder that he was an agent now; maybe not the fastest, or the best, but an agent non-the-less.

He looked at his suit coat, draped across the seat next to him, topped by his dark sun glasses. He had everything he needed to be a spy. Maybe now he could be the kind of man Sarah had always wanted.

-

The lunch rush was over and Sarah brushed a stray hair out of her face. She glanced up at the clock; Chuck should arrive any time now.

As she began restocking the fixings from the piles of chopped vegetables in the refrigerator, she tried to get her anxiousness under control. Whatever she thought she and Chuck had, had been thrown away when he uploaded the New Intersect. Now it had to be all business, for his sake and for hers.

For the past several weeks she had tried to silence the little voice in her head that told her that Chuck was an employee of the CIA now and that they were free to pursue the relationship she always wanted. However, the agent in her knew that the New Intersect was even more valuable than the old. Even though Chuck was an agent, it didn't mean that he didn't still need protecting. She had failed Bryce, she wasn't going to fail Chuck.

But how much protecting would he need now that he had gone though the CIA training? The CIA had the best instructors in the world, and Chuck certainly had shown in the past that he could rise to any occasion. He could do whatever he set his mind to do. He could even become a spy.

She felt her chest tighten. Would Chuck come back to her a cold, hardened spy? Could he set aside all those genuine qualities that she admired so much in him? It would certainly make her professional life easier, but what of her heart?

She bushed the hair away from her face again. Whatever changes Chuck had gone through didn't matter. What mattered is that she was a CIA agent, and she had a job to do. Focusing her mind on that fact, she turned back to her work unwrapping lunch meat.

-

Casey finished his shift at the Buy More early, and was clearing a space in Castle's armory. The new Agent Carmichael would need somewhere for his personal gear and weapons. Casey shook his head. _Agent Carmichael_, he thought, _how desperate could the CIA get?_

But he _had _seen Chuck Kung Fu those guys. In all his years of martial arts training he had never witnessed anything like it. What else could the New Intersect can do? Casey certainly hadn't received any briefings on the subject, but he guessed it would only lead to trouble, for both the team, and for him personally.

He paused as he reached for the tac jacket Chuck had always borrowed from him, and then decided to leave it there. Chuck would need that. No amount of training, or super Intersect would stop a bullet. He thought of the day he rescued Chuck in Roark's office; Chuck was wearing that vest. What Chuck had done to try to rescue his father was stupid - but - also very brave.

What would become of Team Bartowski when Chuck returned? Chuck would be an agent, not his asset, but he would still need protecting – he was still very valuable. Casey didn't care if Chuck trained for a year or two or three; Chuck just didn't have what it took to be a killer. At least Casey didn't think so.

-

The car pulled to a stop and Chuck looked out the window at a big yellow and brown Subway sign.

"Hey," he said to the driver, "it isn't time to stop for a snack, I'm pretty anxious to get to my base."

"This is the address," the driver said as he put the car in park and opened his door.

Chuck furrowed his eyebrows as he fumbled for the car door and stepped out onto the pavement. The Buy More was across the parking lot, right where it should be, but what happened to the Orange Orange?

The driver had opened the trunk and was placing Chuck's suitcases on the curb. Chuck peered through the restaurant window where he saw Sarah helping some customers. The green polo shirt wasn't as attractive as her old uniform but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that it was Sarah, and seeing her now took his breath away.

Wanting to make a good first impression, Chuck slid on his suit coat, and patted his pockets in search of his sun glasses. Realizing his pockets were empty he quickly dove back into the car and found where they had tumbled to the floor. Glassed in place, he buttoned up his jacket and straightened his tie. He would show Sarah that he could be the kind of man she could find attractive.

"Thank you driver. I can take it from here," he said in his best deep spy voice.

The driver looked him up and down. "Whatever you say," he said, slamming down the trunk and getting back in the car.

Chuck picked up his bags, turned towards storefront and took a deep breath. This was it.

-

Sarah heard the clang of the front door and looked up, catching her first glimpse of familiar curly hair. But it wasn't Chuck that walked through the door; it was the new Agent Carmichael, with black luggage, a thousand dollar suit and dark glasses that hid his eyes. All the things she wanted to say to him: how much he had hurt her, how angry she was, how much she had missed him, all faded and was replaced with an overwhelming feeling of loss. So many nights she had lain awake practicing the things she would say to Chuck, and now, facing Carmichael, she could think of nothing. She stood there, taking him in and wondering what it all meant. Moments passed.

"Chuck, I…" she began.

"Sarah, I..." he started at the same time.

Sarah looked down at her hands. He chuckled.

"You go ahead," Sarah said.

"No, that's okay. Ladies first."

Another moment passed. She hated that she couldn't see his eyes, and suddenly, a desperate need to see _her_ Chuck overwhelmed her. She took a tentative step forward and raised her hand slowly towards his face. She wondered what he would do, if he would step back from her, but he stood stone still as she removed the dark sunglasses.

There, behind the glasses, was the Chuck that she knew. But rather than putting her at ease, seeing him made her heart beat a little faster. She paused, and tried to pull herself together. But as she tried to form a thought, she was distracted by the flicker of his warm brown eyes, which seemed to be taking in every detail of her face, and the curve of his lips, that were parted slightly as he breathed short and shallow. She remembered intimately what it was like to kiss those lips and she licked her own unconsciously.

"I um… " Sarah flushed and mentally checked herself; she stepped back from him. "…I just wanted to say…" Not knowing what else to do, or how to recover from how close she was to losing her resolve, she awkwardly thrust out her hand for a handshake. "Welcome Back."

Chuck looked confused for a moment at her proffered hand. "Oh, thanks," he mumbled. He shuffled the cases he was carrying so that he could free up his hand; in the process, he dropped the smallest one and the contents spilled out across the floor. He laughed nervously and bent over to pick up his things. Sarah got down to help. She reached for a piece of clothing that had fallen at her feet.

"That's okay," Chuck said turning pink, "I'll get it," and he quickly grabbed up the pair of Star Wars boxers. More things fell out of his bag, clattered to the floor and he chased them under a nearby table. As he tried to stand, he struck his head hard on the underside of the table; Chuck, and his thousand dollar suit went sprawling. Sarah lunged to catch the napkin holder before it went crashing on top of him; she was too late for the salt and pepper shakers.

Sarah heard Casey laughing from the doorway to the backroom - a full, loud, belly laugh.

Sarah and Chuck turned to looked at him. "What?" they asked simultaneously.

"Nothing, nothing." He pulled out a cigar from his pocket. "I was just worried that things were going to change around here." He chucked to himself and shook his head. "I guess I was wrong."

_The End_

* * *


	21. Entry Nineteen

_Entry Nineteen_

-

"Colonel, you have your orders. Tonight, you are to eliminate Chuck Bartowski," said Beckman coldly. Casey could see the lack of emotion in her eyes, and he wondered just what made someone so cold as to be able to order the death of another human without batting an eyelid. It was different, doing it yourself. You could almost make a peace with it, and accept it. Casey had been forced to order the death of someone only once before in his life, and it haunted him for years. The bonsai trees helped calm him. It just went to show that you never know what can help.

"Yes ma'am," answered Casey stoically, although Beckman could sense some reluctance in his voice. She knew Walker was compromised; it was one of the main reasons Casey was being ordered to carry this out. What she didn't know was that Bartowski had apparently wormed his way under the skin of his coldest handler.

Beckman disconnected the screen and Casey slowly moved to the section of Castle that held his "execution" weapons; weapons he used that held a certain sentimentality for him, and were reserved only for kills that Casey felt deserved some personal feeling involved, rather than a completely detached shot.

It was only a short drive to the apartment complex that would house Chuck Bartowski for only a scant few more minutes. Casey had checked his favourite pistol at Castle and was now in his Crown Victoria, looking for all the world like a typical Buy More salesman driving home after a hard shift. In reality, the stress pushing on Casey's shoulders was much heavier than that of a salesman wondering how he was going to move the next electronic gadget tomorrow.

The Crown Vic pulled up ominously, parked in the low light of a barely working streetlight, which cast a dull shadow, yet left Casey's departure from the vehicle wreathed in a swirling darkness, the cool metallic glint of his weapon shining slightly as Casey held it in readiness.

The window was open. It always was. It hadn't mattered thus far as the handler could protect the asset from enemies that didn't know that nuance of his home security. But now it was the handler that was hunting the asset, and he knew everything about his prey.

Casey stepped silently through the portal that would now be the downfall of his asset. One weakness in a home's security and the enemy was through. He could hear the clinking of wine glasses in the living room, and wondered just what was going on. The asset's sister and husband were away for the week, leaving just Bartowski and...

_Walker_, Casey thought grimly. No way was this going to be a clean in-and-out kill now. She was protective of her asset in so many more ways than Casey could ever dream of. She was compromised; everybody could see that from Beckman to the guy who sold coffee outside the Langley headquarters of the CIA. Yet now that compromise was going to make his task incredibly difficult, rather than being, as Beckman had once put it, "an asset to the asset". Casey was now forced to improvise his original plan to make it look like a suicide; it would be impossible to pull that off without being forced to eliminate his partner in the process.

Casey crept silently through his asset's bedroom, the moonlight giving a sombre mood to what would surely be a place of death shortly. The Intersect was online and working perfectly, and the government couldn't afford to leave two of their best agents to protect a civilian, but they couldn't afford to leave all of their secrets unprotected. That meant Casey was being called upon once more to do what he did best.

The hall was dark, unlit save for the light floating from the candles presumably set up by Bartowski in one of his endless endeavours to win the heart of his CIA handler. Walker had been kept in the dark about the inevitable end to this assignment right from the start, so for all the two occupants of the living room knew, this was simply a long goodbye before Walker ended up quelling some revolution in a far away country.

He rounded the bend slowly, gun at the ready, suppressor in place. First into his sight came Walker's blonde head, sitting with her back to him as she laughed at one of Bartowski's inane jokes. Sitting across from her was the target himself, a large smile on his face as if he were the happiest man in the world at that point.

Casey's pistol came up, hands unwavering, and he sighted on his one-time asset. He was about to pull the trigger when he thought he saw the unmistakeable glint of a diamond on Walker's finger. It was only a trick of the light, but it caused him to check his trigger finger. _Can I really do this? _Casey asked himself, before steeling himself once more. That second's hesitation was his undoing.

He took a step forward to align himself better with his target and to cause as much collateral damage as possible from his explosive-tipped round. Just as he took that step there was a creak from the floorboards below him. He looked down at the treacherous floor and looked up just in time to see Walker spring up from her chair, a look of shock and betrayal on her face.

That look turned to rage in an instant, and Casey barely ducked in time to avoid the knife she had sent spiralling at him.

"Walker," he said firmly. "I have orders! You didn't think they were going to let him walk away from this?"

"I can protect him!" Sarah protested.

"How? You'll be in a different country by this time next week!" he shouted back at his partner.

"Casey, I'm staying!"

At this Chuck's head shot in Sarah's direction. Obviously she hadn't gotten round to telling him yet.

"You're...staying?" Chuck stammered out. "But what about your reassignment?"

"I can't leave you. Not now," said Sarah, looking back in Chuck's direction.

"Walker, I have to finish my assignment," Casey said, begging for understanding.

"You can let him live, we can run. I'll keep him safe," pleaded Sarah.

"Sarah, I'm sorry," said Casey softly before turning his gun back to Chuck and pulling the trigger.

An ear splitting scream pierced the air as Sarah heard the slight cough of Casey's suppressed weapon, and she saw the explosion of red that bloomed across Chuck's chest. Chuck looked down in shock, before collapsing to the table that had been a romantic setting not five minutes earlier.

Sarah was at his side in barely a second, cradling his head and whispering into his ear, begging him not to leave her. Chuck's breathing was shallow, but there was still a pulse. His shirt was drenched in the coppery red source of life, and his skin was pallid as it drained out of him.

Unable to witness the heartbreak going on in front of him, Casey turned to leave the destruction he had just wrought on the lives of two people, but before he left this assignment in the worst way possible, he turned back to Sarah.

"I truly am sorry, but I had orders," he said in barely a whisper. If Sarah heard she didn't respond, but only continued to hold Chuck's head, which was steadily getting paler as he fought to hold onto life for as long as possible.

"Sarah, I'm gone," Chuck said hoarsely.

"No, no you're not," Sarah answered in a soft voice, "not now, not when we're just getting started together."

"I am," Chuck protested weakly. "You know it. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," she responded through the tears that were now beginning to choke her.

"Find someone who can make you happy," said Chuck in an even weaker voice, as if those words in themselves were a struggle.

"I don't want someone else," sobbed Sarah. "I _need_ you. Don't leave me. Please."

"Sarah, please," begged Chuck. "Promise me you'll find a way to be happy."

"Okay," Sarah sniffed, the word difficult to make out because of the tears still streaming down her face as she held Chuck's broken body.

"I've always loved you Sarah," whispered Chuck, before finally giving up to the onslaught of blackness. Sarah saw Chuck's pupils fix and dilate and she knew he was gone. Sarah's tears showed no sign of stopping as she thought of what might have been but for a bullet from the one person other than Chuck she had come to trust. Their children came to her mind, brown haired and blue eyed. Maybe they'd have had the curls of their father.

Now that was never going to happen. Sarah's one and only was lying in her arms and growing colder by the second, but she had to try. She wasn't going to break a promise to Chuck, but all she had to hope for was locked inside the man whose blood stained the pristine floor. The pistol holstered at her thigh was looking like a tempting prospect, a way to end the terrible pain that was tearing at her every second since Chuck's pulse had slowed and finally stopped.

Every whispered "I love you" that she said into a cold ear made her cry more, but she couldn't stop. He deserved to know, and even though all logic said it was too late, Sarah wanted to believe he was still there, somewhere, and she wanted to make up for lost opportunities. Every time she had held her tongue, every time she had worried about being compromised, every missed chance to show Chuck how she felt. They all welled up within her and forced their way out in the greatest outpouring of emotion Sarah had ever experienced.

Her family had vanished in the time it had taken for an NSA bullet to make its way from barrel to flesh. The children were gone, and the idyllic lifestyle with the only man she wanted to enjoy it with had been taken from her. They were nothing more than wisps of possibility all flowing away from her and the body she still cradled as if it were a living, breathing person.

She barely had time for a thought for Ellie and how she would react to finding out her brother was gone, so focused was she on her own pain. Nothing was going to sooth it; she would live with it every moment of every day. Most of, if not all of her heart had ceased to beat when Chuck's had stopped, and she never wanted to stop feeling the pain, and by association, forget him, unless it meant she was with Chuck again.

As the red sun came up, the living room that was still home to a corpse and a broken woman was still wreathed in shadow due to the drawn curtains. Sarah had cried herself out hours before, but she still cradled Chuck's lifeless body as if it were her only comfort. She wasn't ready to be torn from him. And the person that had ripped him from her was now at the forefront of her mind.

John Casey was going to pay for what he had done to them.

-


	22. Entry Twenty

_Entry Twenty_

-

"Oh come on people! How on Earth did you ever accomplish even one mission successfully over the last three years with teamwork like that?" Daniel Shaw, the new team leader of team Bartowski, stood at the head of the conference table in Castle. His special black 'superhero' outfit as Chuck called it was ripped in several places and his arm was supported in a makeshift sling. He started walking around the table with a noticeable limp and tried to stare down his teammates, or the best he could with one eye starting to swell shut.

Sarah and Chuck were sitting at the table, staring at their feet. Their chairs were almost turned back to back to each other. Sarah was holding an icepack to the small of her back with a bandaged wrist and Chuck had with an obviously - newly acquired black eye. Casey however seemed to be just fine and sat on the opposite side, cleaning one by one all the guns in the weapons locker and appeared to be totally ignoring Shaw on what was now becoming an hour long lecture.

Shaw was rubbing his left temple and was just waiting for one of them to say the 'it's complicated' line again. For the last hour when he went to talk to them, all he heard from them was "it's complicated." He swore - the next person that said that would get one right between the eyes. At least this time he got Chuck and Sarah in the same room.

"I mean can't I get some reasonable answers here? How did this go so terribly wrong? This was our first mission together, and a really simple in and out at that. And it blew up in our faces because of, what is the name again?"

"Her name is Hannah." Chuck whispered. Sarah, like every time that name is mentioned tensed and her left hand seemed to involuntarily reach towards her knives.

"Right, Hannah that's the brunettes' name. Let's take it from the beginning people. Now I went around and covered the back of the building, Bartowski, you entered from the front with Walker posing as your date and Casey you provided backup in the van parked across the street?"

Grunt #334 (Why bring me into this?)

"And then what happened?"

Sarah and Chuck seem to be about to speak at the same time but Chuck takes his hand puts it up to his mouth and turns completely away from Sarah.

Sarah with a hurt look quickly shakes it off and turns to Shaw "The asset went up to our contact and the got the ball rolling. It was very busy and we had to sit down in the far corner and waited until our contact returned with the packages. I got up and went to the washroom, as usual to scope out the place and as per your request; I waited for Casey to give me a clear on security to make sure that the back door was left unlocked for you to enter if necessary."

Grunt#234 (Tired with a side of dis-interest) "After you had made the connections to the security system, I looped three minutes of tape from the camera and gave Walker the all clear." Casey then takes a strip marked "MARTHA" from the label maker on his lap and puts it on the butt of the semi-automatic he just cleaned and goes and lovely returns it to its proper place in the weapons locker.

Chuck then cleared his throat "While Agent Walker was 'scouting', Hannah walked in and saw me, and immediately came over and sat down."

"Then had three new security locks and a double redundant security system on the back door and it took me a few extra minutes to disable the alarm and remove the locks. Total time from the asset was about 6 ½ minutes." Sarah jumped in.

"While I was talking to Hannah, that's when the sprinkler system went off." Chuck cut her off.

Shaw turned to Chuck "So is that when her dress came off?"

"Aaahhh no, "Chuck turned a very deep shade of red, "that actually happened a few seconds later..."

"Ok then, at what point did the bear show up. Agent Walker can you shed some light on this…"

Sarah sat straight up and looked down at the table again "When I returned I saw the asset with the brunette sitting in the darken corner and I … mis-understood the asset's hand signals and I thought he was telling me to back off. And I still had to have his back and complete the mission, so I decided to disguise myself..."

Shaw changed from rubbing his temple to the bridge of his nose "and so you in your expert opinion decided that a bear suit would be the best disguise?"

Sarah squirmed. "Well yes. I had lost audio communication with the asset so I put on the koala bear suit in order to re-establish contact. It was right beside me with the football team and the cheerleaders and the place was filled with people from the game I was using for cover but it was hard for me being a little older than high school students to really fit in well. It seemed the correct thing to do under the circumstances. I assumed an Australian accent and the team had no problems with be borrowing the bear suit that was their school mascot after I promised the quarterback a date. I worked my way over to the asset and …"

Chuck immediately had a hurt look on his face and Shaw thought he heard a little sob.

"I get it Walker, now Bartowski you and Hannah were talking about what?"

Chuck started twirling around in his chair. "Her first week at the Buy More. She thinks that Casey is scarier than Lester and I was telling her about the time Morgan glued Lester's hand together so he couldn't drink any beer. Worse thirty minutes in Buy More history. We were just glad the EMT's found something to dissolve super glue before Jeff started convulsing..."

"OH CRAP – ENOUGH TWIRLING!– So back on topic, when did the fire alarm go off?"

"It was right after Hannah leaned over and kissed me. And let me tell you whe she kisses you, you know you've been kissed." Chuck said fanning himself and trying not to look at Sarah. Casey noticed that she went very stiff and she thought he smelled smoke coming from her direction. Chuck did notice that the knife that was on the conference room table was now missing and he slowly started backing away.

GRUNT #443 (Laughter) "That's when all heck broke loose, the bear went and lunged towards the couple, well the girl actually and the fire alarm magically went off. Oh by the way Walker, I retrieved the bear's knife from the fire alarm pull station. I'm assuming that the bear was aiming for it and not various parts of your boyfriend." Casey then puts down his guns and stretches "I'll be back in a minute."

Shaw sits down and starts hitting his head on the conference table "ow ow ow continue ow ow".

Sarah took a deep breath. "Well seeing a potential threat to the asset I went in to secure him and created a diversion to aid in the escape."

Chuck whipped the chair around and faced Sarah "Some extraction, you grabbed at Hannah and your sharp bear claws ripped her dress off in one clean 'whoosh'. At least I'm assuming it was the bear claws."

"How could I possibly know she bought cheap dresses and that she doesn't wear underwear?"

"Trust me, one look at her tight outfits and you can tell she doesn't wear underwear!"

"So you noticed before?" Sarah stands up beside Chuck.

Rising also "I work with Jeff and Lester; it's the main topic of discussion!"

By now they are so close together, Shaw could feel the restraint and the shear force of will vibrate off them. Both wanted the other, but neither would make the first move.

Slamming his one good hand down on the table Shaw jumps up. "Enough! You two sit down and knock it off or I'll get a bucket of ice water and send you both to your room without supper! My eight year old nieces act better than you two."

They both return to their seats and there is a long awkward silence until Chuck cleared his throat "So anyhoo, Agent Walker grabbed me and I grabbed Hannah and held her close since she was, well, naked and I wanted to shield her from everyone eyes. I would have given her my jacket, but with everyone trying to get out and Sar- Agent Walker pushing me towards the van, I couldn't get it off, Crap, I mean I couldn't remove my jacket since one hand was busy.. Oh Crap, I mean … oh heck so I held her close, using my body to shield her from hormonal teenage boys. That's when Agent Walker in those big bear feet tripped, resulting in a back injury when I fell on her and when Hannah fell on me, her head hit me in the eye. That's when Casey came up with a blanket and covered Hannah and blocked her view enough to that she didn't notice that a koala bear ran and hid in the van."

Sarah picks up the thread then. "After I got to the van I got out of the bear suit and then hear your call for help coming over the van's speakers. I grabbed my gun and ran around back where I found you…"

"Yeah, yeah I know, after being trampled by all those teenagers running out the back door. I met them a third of the way in, they knocked me over and it was all I could do to make sure that they didn't do any permanent damage. They must have dragged me thirty feet." Shaw shuddered. Not that he hasn't had worse things happen to him, but the most embarrassing since the blindfolded mud wrestling incident of 2003 that nearly resulted in a shot gun wedding to a guy called Bubba.

"So I assisted you in your return to the van" Sarah finishes.

"Yeah looking mighty friendly when you did that extensive body checked for injuries, Sarah" Chuck said just loud enough for Sarah to hear. She shot him a nasty look, and he thought he heard something behind him, _'Please tell me his superpower isn't killing people with his mind."_

"So since we just met a few hours ago, and just so I know what I'm getting myself into here. We have a nuclear amount of sexual tension between you two, three people down with slight injuries, a NSA member that really is too found of his equipment and to top it all off, we were not able to acquire the packages with a briefing in what 10 minutes. This sounds like a bad script for that TV show on NBC; you know the one that isn't coming back until after the Olympics next March. What is that name again. Zack or maybe it was Yvonne, possibly Adam I am lousily with names of TV shows?" Shaw gets up and grabs a coffee mug from the table behind Chuck, only to put it back down when he notices that it has a throwing knife embedded between the words NERD and BLOOD.

Casey kicks the door leading from the double O and marches down the stairs carrying beer, a party pack of SUBWAY subs and a newspaper which he throws between Chuck and Sarah on the table. On the front page is a picture of a bear on her back with a nerd on top, with his face hidden by the back of a naked brunette. The Headline "SUBWAY"S NEWEST SUB: GEEK ON BEAR SKIN RUG WITH MODEL TOPPING." in smaller letters was written "New SUBWAY has grand opening in Buy More Plaza."

Casey grabs a sub and a beer and puts on the big screen "See how easy this is when you leave it to the professional, the next time we want Subway's $5 subs to watch the Monday night briefings, I'll go in alone, and you guys can stay in the van?"


	23. Entry TwentyOne

_Entry Twenty-One_

-

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, _ow_!" Chuck exclaims, the pain in his voice escalating with each utterance.

Ellie rolls her eyes. "You're fine," she tells him as she works gently at stitching up the gash on his forehead. "I numbed it. Just take a deep breath and try to relax."

"It still hurts," he complains with a petulant frown.

Ellie pauses in her work to shoot her brother an incredulous look. "You're imagining it. Now _relax_."

Sarah, watching this exchange with her arms crossed and an amused smile, moves beside the table Chuck's sitting on, slips her hand into his, and gives it a light squeeze. She's rewarded with one of those lopsided smiles she values so much.

"Hey," she says quietly.

"Hey, yourself."

She glances up at his sliced forehead. Ellie's cleaned off the blood, and her stitching, though only half-done, is nice and even. At his request, thinking it'll make him look like Darth Maul, she's even done it in red thread.

"It looks better," she comments.

"Does it?" he asks.

Sarah nods. "Uh-huh. How do you feel?"

"Better," he admits. "Now."

Sarah blushes and, when she looks away, her gaze meets Ellie's. The doctor's not even trying to hide her grin.

"So how'd this happen anyway?" Ellie asks curiously.

Sarah looks back at Chuck with raised eyebrows. His befuddled expression tells her that he has no clue how to explain this. Sarah sighs. She can't tell Ellie the truth – that her brother's a spy, that she wasn't look out for him and, because of that, he slammed his head against an archway while on the chase during a mission. She can't tell her that.

So instead, she blurts, "Video games."

Ellie looks perplexed. "Video games?"

"Yeah, we were playing uh, Wii tennis. A little too enthusiastically, right, Chuck?" He laughs softly, and she continues, "And _bam_! I just . . . smacked him right in the forehead. I think he was more upset about the remote than his head, actually."

"That's my brother," Ellie laughs as she ties off the stitching. "There," she pronounces. "All done."

"Thank you, sis," Chuck breathes in relief. "I thought I'd never be done."

"And you were such a good little boy," she teases. "Want me to get you a lollipop?"

He sticks his tongue out at her, making the girls laugh.

"All right, get out of here, little brother," Ellie says with a smile. "Go spend some time with your girlfriend. _Real_ time," she chastises, "not playing some video game."

"Don't worry," Sarah assures her, "I'll keep an eye on him."

Ellie smiles. "Good. Make sure he gets rest. If his headache comes back, give him two aspirin. Three if it's bad."

"Got it," Sarah nods.

Chuck gives his sister a mock salute. "Thanks, doc."

Ellie walks away with a laugh, sending a wave over her shoulder. "See you guys later," she calls.

When she disappears from view, Sarah turns to Chuck. "Ready to get out of here?"

"You betcha."

Hand-in-hand, they walk out of the ER. Sarah stays quiet, because there are a million things running through her head right now. Like how she really should be keeping her distance, should have high-tailed it out of here as soon as she ascertained that he – the _asset_ – was okay. Yet she's still here, still holding his hand, can't seem to tear herself away. It's like she's addicted to his companionship.

To ease her discomfort, Sarah looks up at him and runs a thumb gently across the stitching. "You look like Frankenstein's monster," she chuckles as they walk out into the fresh October air.

Chuck screeches to a halt on the sidewalk and turns to look at her in surprise. "Sarah Walker," he says in wonder. "Was that a cultural reference?"

She pushes him playfully on the shoulder. "Shut up." Then a thought strikes her. "Ooh, maybe that's what you can go as for Ellie and Awesome's Halloween party next week!"

"Ha ha," he fake laughs. "Very funny." She laughs, a delightful sound that peals through the street. He squeezes her hand and says, "Besides, I've already found us costumes."

"'Us'?" she questions with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. This is our third Halloween together. It's time we have a couple's costume."

"But Morgan's going to be devastated when he finds out you're not going to be the sandworm again."

"Nah. We talked about it, and we're moving on," he shrugs. "He's got Anna now."

Sarah swallows. Glancing up at him timidly, she poses, "And you've got me?"

Cracking a shy smile, he gives her hand another squeeze. "Yeah," he replies softly. "I do."

-

Fortuitously, there's a monster movie marathon on TCM that night. Sarah takes him back to her hotel room, where they eat Chinese take-out and watch three-and-a-half hours of Halloween movie madness featuring Lon Chaney, Bela Lugois, and Boris Karloff. Chuck, who adores these old films, jumps at the opportunity to introduce her to their iconic roles.

In the middle of _Frankenstein_, he reaches up to rub his forehead.

Sarah slaps his hand away gently. "Don't mess with it. You'll pull out the stitches."

"Okay, fine," he smiles. Gesturing emphatically to the screen, he protests, "But you can't tell me anymore that I look like _that_ guy."

"I suppose not," she laughs.

"No," he agrees. "I'm much handsomer."

A soft smile on her face, she says quietly, "Yeah, you are."

Chuck, his eyes twinkling, sneaks a glance at her. He leans back against the headboard, smiling to himself.

A slight blush suffuses Sarah's cheeks, and she's grateful he doesn't push the topic. Changing the subject, she asks, "How's your headache?"

He swallows his mouthful of rice before replying, "Better. I think the Chinese and the movies are helping more than the aspirin."

"Yes," she chuckles, "the age-old cure."

"Hey, these are tested and true methods."

"Mmm-hmm. Tested by whom?"

"Me and Morgan."

"Oh, I should have known." She pops a piece of chicken into her mouth. "Just don't let Ellie know this is how I'm taking care of you. She'll revoke my girlfriend privileges."

Chuck laughs and tells her, "Your secret's safe with me."

Sarah glances over at him, realizing just how much she wants this scene to come true. She wants to make him laugh, wants to be the one to take care of him, wants to be the one he sees when he wakes up for a few minutes in the middle of the night. She loves nights like this – lazy, quiet, easy nights that feel so, so right.

It's not until this moment that she recognizes just how effortless loving him has become.

Chuck sighs, letting his lips sputter as he exhales.

"Tired?" Sarah asks, brushing a curl off his forehead.

"Yeah," he nods. "And full."

"Do you want to go to sleep? Maybe I should drive you home."

"No," he shakes his head. Retreating, he says quickly, "I mean, I don't want to leave yet. If that's all right with you."

"Of course."

They exchange a shy smile, and Sarah turns back to her dinner. She should have kept her distance, not brought him here in the first place. So maybe he shouldn't stay, but that doesn't mean she wants him to go.

But ten minutes into _The Black Cat_, Chuck's eyes start to droop. She bumps him gently on the shoulder.

Her voice is quiet, almost timid, when she asks, "Hey, do you want to stay?"

Chuck's eyes fly open. He sits up straight and rubs the sleep away. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She reaches for his hand, slips her fingers in between his. "It'll be easier than taking you home. Besides, there's no reason not to."

Not a complete lie, since she does have extra clothes of his in a drawer just in case they ever have to do this (shore up the cover, she tells herself). But they've been at this for two years now, and she finds it hard to care what other people think of their relationship. All she cares about is how he feels, if he's comfortable, if she's giving him what he needs.

But it's a lie in the sense that there's one huge, glaring reason not to.

It's the supercomputer stuck inside his brain, the one that gives him abilities she can barely imagine.

Chuck, mesmerized, seemingly oblivious to the conflict within her, lets his fingers glide over hers. "Okay," he finally murmurs. "On one condition."

She narrows her eyes suspiciously at him. "What?"

There's a playful smirk on his lips when he replies, "I want a bedtime story."

-

Sarah Walker has been in many compromising positions, but this may be the mother of them all. She's reclining against the headboard, wearing nothing but a tank top and boy shorts, and Chuck, in his boxers and undershirt, is lying against her. His head is pillowed on her chest; she has one arm wrapped around his chest and the fingers of her other hand are tangled in his hair. She likes touching his hair, likes the feel of his soft curls against her fingertips.

Her instincts are screaming at her, telling her she definitely shouldn't be this up close and cuddly with her asset. She thinks of how Casey would react if he knew, how his eyes would bug out and his trigger finger would twitch. She thinks of Beckman, and how she'd get a thorough scolding if her superior would ever find out. She thinks of her father, the man who'd warned that love was the one thing that could undo any great con-artist. He hadn't exactly been talking about her current line of work, but it applies nonetheless.

Her heart, though, is saying something completely different. It's whispering words of courage, of strength, of patience. It's telling her that this man in her arms is completely worth all the pain and the heartache and the doubt. That he's not one to leave her high and dry at the moment she decides to risk her he'll be by her side through thick, through thin, through the rollercoaster that defines their relationship.

Breathing deeply, she strokes his curls. "I don't know what you want me to say," she says, embarrassed.

"Anything," he answers. "You can tell me Cinderella if you want to. Just tell me a story. It'll help me fall asleep, and I like hearing your voice."

She blushes profusely, profoundly thankful that he can't see the pink suffusing her cheeks. Ignoring that comment, she retorts teasingly, "You don't need a story to fall asleep. You were doing perfectly fine on your own fifteen minutes ago."

He swivels his head, arching his back to shoot her a dazzling, upside-down smile, one she couldn't refuse if she tried. "Please?" he implores, his puppy dog eyes boring into her more somber ones.

"Fine," she replies with an eye roll. "But don't complain when you find out what a bad storyteller I am."

Chuckling, he promises not to, closes his eyes, and settles back against her. She sighs heavily, thoughtfully.

Twisting a ringlet around her forefinger, Sarah begins softly, "There once was a beautiful princess, blessed with a magical ability to heal. People from all over the land came to her, and she would touch them, take away their pain. What they didn't know was how her magic worked. They didn't know that every time she touched someone, the princess felt all of their pain."

She ceases when Chuck stirs slightly, but he quickly settles into a more comfortable position.

Swallowing, she continues, "Though the people greatly admired her, they also feared her, for they knew nothing of magic. Because of this, the princess was lonely. One day, a brave blacksmith arrived in her kingdom, bringing with him his apprentice, injured in the forge. The blacksmith, by journeying to the castle, had hoped that the princess would heal the apprentice."

"Did she?" Chuck interrupts. "Did she heal him?"

Sarah's taken aback by his interest. His eyes are still closed, and his breathing is so even that she had almost guessed that he was asleep.

"She tried," she answers. "But when the blacksmith saw the pain in her eyes, he begged her to stop. Out of all the people she had helped, he was the only one to recognize her suffering. He was the only one to see her for her true self.

"The princess, touched and yet curious, said to the blacksmith, 'You must have many men work for you. Why is it that this one is so special to you?'

"The blacksmith thought for a moment before replying, 'He makes me laugh.'

"The princess smiled. 'That is a quality you cannot afford to lose,' she said. 'I will look after your apprentice, and make sure that he recovers.'

"The blacksmith, worried for the princess, asked, 'Will you promise not to use your magic, not to hurt yourself to heal him?'

"His concern warmed the princess's heart, for no one had never before shown her such affection. She promised the blacksmith, saying, 'You and he will be guests in my kingdom until he recovers. The two of you will be welcome here for as long as you live.'"

"So what happened?" Chuck asks with interest. "Did the apprentice recover?"

"Yes," Sarah assures him as she continues to stroke his hair. "He did, with the help of the princess's compassion. She invited the apprentice and the blacksmith to stay at her castle, gave them the best care that was available. While the apprentice regained his strength, the blacksmith would walk the castle grounds or pore over the books in the library.

"The princess was fascinated by the blacksmith. She gave him a tour of the castle and the grounds, told him the history of the land, even spent time with him reading in the library. But what she appreciated most about him was his mind. They talked about books, about ideas. He was the first person she had met who saw beyond what she could do and instead saw her for who she was."

"He respected her," Chuck mumbles sleepily.

"That's right," she murmurs into his hair. "He did. And he loved her. He loved her because she cared for others more than she cared for herself, because she was too unassuming to see what she really deserved, and because she could make him feel like the world was his. She set his heart on fire."

"And she loved him, too."

"Yes. She loved him very much. She loved him for his kind heart, and the way he understood her without needing to say anything at all."

Grimacing, Chuck squirms. "I sense something bad coming."

Sarah chuckles softly. "The king and queen were good rulers. They protected their people, but they didn't always understand their daughter. They didn't understand her gift. And they didn't understand her love for this man, whom they saw as beneath her.

"'He is a simple blacksmith,' the queen said. 'Certainly not fit for a princess.' And so she and the king forbade them from marrying.

"The princess was lost. She thought about running away with the blacksmith, escaping to a far-off land where no one had ever heard of them, but what kind of leader would she be for her people if she simply abandoned them? The blacksmith, too, felt this decision acutely. He wanted to be better for her, and he began to wish that he was a great knight, brave in battle and renowned for his heroic and daring exploits.

"But when he saw her sorrow, he knew that they could not simply run away. After all, the greatest joy comes out of the greatest hardships. One night, he found her walking in the gardens, her eyes wet with tears. He'd never seen her cry before, but he swiftly took her in his arms and held her. Just his embrace was enough to calm her down.

"He kissed her softly on the forehead and said, 'You could have anything in the world if you so desired, but I stand before you and offer you my heart. I am a simple man, though, and I don't have much to give beyond a comfortable home.'

"'That is not true,' the princess replied. 'For you are the only one who can give me happiness.'"

"Did they get married?" Chuck interrupts with a smile.

"Yes, they did," Sarah assures him. "The princess went to live with the blacksmith in a small village, where he taught her about the forge, and she started a library. The apprentice recovered, too, and he and the blacksmith became celebrated throughout the land for their fine craftsmanship."

"And the king and queen?" Chuck prompts. "Did they reconcile with the princess?"

Sarah nods. "Yes. They were stern, but not cold-hearted, and they soon realized just how much they missed her. They invited her back to the castle, but she declined, preferring to stay with her new husband. Even though it was far, the king and queen made sure to visit often, especially when it came time to visit their first granddaughter. And the princess and blacksmith found life beyond their wildest dreams." She takes a deep breath. "And they lived happily ever after."

Grinning, Chuck opens his eyes and flips onto his side to look at her. "See?" he says. "You're a fantastic storyteller."

"Obviously not, because you're not asleep," she teases.

In response, he slides under the covers, sidles up against her, and holds his arm open in invitation. With a sigh, Sarah joins him, snuggling against his lean, warm frame.

"Thanks for the story," he murmurs. "And for taking care of me."

Nuzzling into his chest, she replies softly, "You're welcome, Chuck."

She listens to his breathing, feels his chest rise and fall evenly, and she's drifting off to sleep when she hears him whisper, "You set my heart on fire, Sarah."

Tightening her hold on him, she smiles against his chest and says, "So tell me about these Halloween costumes."


	24. Entry TwentyTwo

_Entry Twenty-Two_

_-_

**First Time**

The first time Morgan knows something isn't right with his buddy is when they're playing the new _Call of Duty_ game. Things are going pretty normally, when all of a sudden, Chuck's eyes roll into the back of his head. Morgan writes it off initially to "brain freeze". Chuck _had_ polished off his slurpy in nearly record time.

But pretty soon, Morgan realizes that it _can't_ be brain freeze. Brain freeze would render Chuck useless on the fake battlefield for a minute or two. It wouldn't turn him into the ultimate killing machine, and that's what has happened. In less than a minute, Chuck has wiped out everyone in sight.

No words are said between the friends at first. Chuck just looks down at his hands, then over to Morgan, then back at his hands again, and finally back to Morgan.

"Huh, I guess I really got in the zone there, huh?" Chuck asks.

"Yeah buddy, you did," replies Morgan. He's unsure of what else he can say given the current situation. "You want me to get you another slice of pizza, oh master of the imaginary bloody rampage?" Morgan asks with a forced smile.

"Yeah, man. That sounds great."

Morgan walks away to the kitchen to get more food, unsure what's going on with his friend, but positive that he won't bring it up. Bringing it up won't do any good. What do you say to someone that gets some kind of magical gaming powers all of a sudden? You say nothing, and just thank God that he's on your side.

-

**Second Time**

The second time Morgan knows something is amiss with Chuck is when an irate customer threatens the safety of Buymoria. Okay, to be fair, the customer didn't threaten _all_ of the Buy More. Just Morgan Grimes. And it wasn't Morgan's fault. Okay, it wasn't _all_ Morgan's fault. The man just came in at a bad time: during Morgan's lunch break. But not just _during_ the break, but at the beginning of the break.

Of course Morgan can't have someone interfere with chow time. That would be no good. It's been at least two hours since Morgan had anything to eat, and quite honestly, he's famished. So when the man -- we'll call him Pedro – starts yammering on about some nonsense about the television he bought from another Buy More not working, Morgan just tunes him out. He doesn't bother to listen at all to the complaints of the large, hulking customer. And why would he? Morgan isn't the one that made the faulty purchase.

So when the man gets angry, and tells Morgan to "meet him outside", Morgan unwittingly obliges, because he has a hankering for Subway.

Morgan gets three steps outside the sliding glass doors before he is accosted. Pedro grabs Morgan's shirt and slams him against the wall.

"I didn't think you'd have the huevos to come out here, little man," says the customer is a low, threatening tone.

"Guh," Morgan responds.

"So, where should I hit you first? Face or body?" asks the angry man.

"Uh," responds the Green Shirt.

"Tick-tock, bitch. The time to decide is running short. Well, shit, I wasn't going to let you decide anyway."

And with that, Pedro lands a swift, blow to Morgan's gut. The shot would have doubled the bearded man over were he not being held up by his attacker. All Morgan can do in response, however, is to gasp for air. The angry customer pulls his fist back to strike again when Morgan's watering eyes see his best friend walk up behind them.

"What's going on here?" Chuck asks.

"None of your business, nerd-boy. Move along," replies Pedro, dropping his fist and giving Chuck a threatening glare.

Pedro pulls back once more to punch Morgan. And that's when Morgan sees Chuck's eyes roll back in his head again. The next few moments are a blur. One second, Pedro is holding Morgan against the wall, prepared to inflict more pain; the next, a flurry of movement from Chuck has Pedro on the ground unconscious, with a spaced out Chuck standing over him.

"Dude!" Morgan exclaims. "Where did you learn that?"

"Um – I – Sarah has been on me to take some self defense classes. I thought it would be for the best. I guess it worked out, huh? Let's get you back inside," Chuck replies hurriedly.

-

**Third Time**

The third time Morgan knows that something about Chuck is different, there is no violence involved at all. That's a good thing, as Morgan always viewed Chuck as more of a lover than a fighter.

It's not long after Chuck and Sarah broke up…again. This time, something about their separation seems more permanent, although Morgan can't really put his finger on it. It makes him sad, to be sure. His best buddy had never been as happy as he was with Sarah. But life moves on, and so must go all things, the bearded man reasons.

So when Hannah comes to work at the Buy More, and Chuck takes an instant liking to her, Morgan is glad to see that his pal is moving on so quickly. It's the polar opposite from the Jill debacle six years prior. The only problem is that Hannah doesn't seem to return Chuck's affections. It's been a long time since Morgan has seen Chuck pine over a girl. He thought that pining Chuck was gone forever after that Kayla Hart girl moved out, and Sarah came into Chuck's life.

But Hannah has brought back the desperate, stalker Chuck with force. This would really bring Morgan down, if Hannah didn't seem to be interested in getting a piece of the Grimes. Friends are important, but since Anna moved on, Morgan has been at a serious loss of action, and if this new hottie wanted to ride the beard, then how was he supposed to say no?

Then, one day Sarah stops by the store. Morgan doesn't hear the conversation she has with Chuck, but things get pretty heated between the fearless leader and his ex-lady. When Sarah turns on her heel to march out of the store, Morgan sees Chuck's eyes immediately seek out Hannah. Those same eyes once again roll back in the head of the lead Nerd Herder, and Chuck is quickly on a beeline for the newest (and hottest) Buy More employee.

Again, Morgan is unsure what Chuck says, but whatever it is, it seems to have a much better effect on Hannah than it did on Sarah.

Two days later, Morgan is getting some cereal in the kitchen of Casa de Grimes and Bartowski when Hannah, clad only in panties and one of Chuck's t-shirts comes strolling into the kitchen.

He doesn't know what it is about that little eye roll technique Chuck has, but it seems to give his best friend super powers. Maybe one day, Chuck will actually teach Morgan his secret. And Morgan will be glad to learn how to be as incredibly awesome as this new Chuck. Well, he'll be glad to learn as long as it isn't too much work. All the _Call of Duty_ victories, physical fighting skills, and hot tail in the world aren't worth overexertion.


	25. Entry TwentyThree

_Entry Twenty-Three_

-

John Casey sat opposite a new, large, black plasma screen, next to a picture of Ronald Regan, and a several newspaper articles about his current President, Barack Obama, all from different locations. It was good, he reflected, to keep up with news from different places. It gave an individual a more rounded opinion of things going on in the world. It let a country know your friends, and your foes.

To be a good spy, you must be totally aware. At this moment, Casey should feel totally aware. He was sitting in his security level 1 apartment, amongst apartments that contained the most important intelligence assets and agents in at least the United States, if not the world. He was watching security feeds of said apartments. He had a gun beneath his shirt, and a rifle in a concealed compartment underneath the table he was sitting next to.

But something felt wrong. Something felt seriously _wrong._ He couldn't place it, and by watching the feeds on the screens next to him, his worries were nothing more than that exactly. But still.....

-

Ellie wasn't really sure where Chuck had gone. Devon had nearly fallen over the couch to ask her, and when she'd said that she didn't know, he'd run out of the front door and hadn't come back yet. He did that sometimes. Not so much before they had gotten married, but Devon had done a few weird things since they'd been married.

Small things, and they didn't change how she felt about him, but they were just… _weird_. Things like insisting that they go to different restaurants after having spoken with John. Or asking her to do the shopping with John, or coming home from work and going over to hang out with John. In fact, John Casey had become much more a part of their lives after they'd gotten married.

Ellie didn't mind, she loved Devon, and in a way she loved John. He was sweet and quiet, and occasionally paranoid. She was convinced he had a child somewhere.

They had moved out for a while, her and Devon, but it just didn't work out, and after Chuck had moved upstairs to another one of the apartments with Morgan (the thought of those few months still gave her the chills), and eventually, Sarah, there was no reason why they couldn't take back their old apartment.

Being married to Devon was all she had ever wanted and so much more. Now that they had moved back, he'd seemed to have forged a real friendship with John, and grown closer with Chuck. They made an odd trio, and Ellie was sure she had seen Sarah with them a few times, which just made an even weirder quartet. She shook her head of the thoughts and turned her attention back to her magazine.

-

Sarah loved to work out. To build up a sweat and clear out her system was something she enjoyed more than the average exercise-freak. Though missions promised adrenaline rushes and injuries that would make the Weak's blood run cold, a good, hot sweat was something that missions lacked.

The castle had been completely transformed after Intersect 2.0 had wound its way up inside of Chuck's head. Though she was unhappy with the cause, the new gym that had been built beneath the '_In'n'Wait_', (her 'new employer'), was not a reason to complain.

It was a large space, lined with metallic doors and walls and filled with an assortment of punching bags, pull up bars, a treadmill fitted with monitoring equipment for Chuck, and mats that were pulled out for 'kung fu' practise (as her oh-so-eloquent boyfriend had dubbed it).

In reality, it was a training facility for the new Human Intersect 2.0. In her mind, it was _her_ space. A room designed and fitted with only her specific needs in mind, apart from the lack of knives and a Chuck. She used it whenever she had the chance. With Chuck now in even more danger, it was more important than ever to keep her fitness levels up, her fighting skills fresh, and teach Chuck what she could of martial arts.

_Sharp left. Right jab. Right kick. Centre shot._

Her punches hadn't changed. She still hit, the bag still swung. But there was something not quite right about the positioning of the bag. The colour of the bag. The size of the bag. The height of the damned bag was_ completely_ wrong. Everything was _wrong_.

She dropped her hands and sighed. She walked away from the punch-bag and picked up 2 black duffel bags. She turned around to face her beloved space, the treadmill that let her and her body avoid the leering gazes of too many men as she did her daily exercise.

The punch bag had never felt right. Though now well beaten and with a sufficient number of holes to be passed as experienced, it was still _new. _It still felt like a foreign object. As she looked around the gym, she realised that though some days it felt like her personal haven, it just wasn't right.

She missed Chuck. She hadn't seen him since this morning, and her left hand had been cold since they had parted ways and he'd slipped his hand from hers. As she exited the small gym she switched off the lights and entered the code to lock it for the night.

She slung both bags over her shoulders and headed up the stairs towards her new love. She scanned her iris, exited from the backroom, walked around the counters and left the shop. She smiled as she spotted her most recent object of affection, who seemed equally as happy to see her, glistening in the last remnants of the sunlight.

Opening the small boot of her new, black _Audi R8_, she smiled as she reflected upon how lucky she was to get a fat pay check at the end of each month. She deposited the duffel bags, and took up her position of joy inside her baby; the drivers seat. She checked it was in neutral, before switching into first and taking off into the sunset.

-

Chuck was a man of honour. Devon knew that after having lived with him for 5 years. He was caring, and sweet, and Devon would have no problems with him… if he wasn't so frigging good at everything.

'Chuck… give a bro a chance!' Devon protested as Chuck scored yet another strike. Chuck flashed him a smile and a shrug.

'I guess this is just another one of my unknown talents' he joked. Devon laughed and marked the strike on their scorecard.

Ever since him and Ellie had moved back into their old apartment, Devon had been integrated into Chuck's world. He wasn't allowed to know about missions, and he didn't ask, but he was, as one General Beckman had put it, _'a vital part of the Agent Carmichael's training regime'_, should he so choose to be involved.

He hadn't said no, he was a patriotic man and he loved Chuck as a brother-in-law, but even so… it didn't really feel as though he was being offered a choice in the matter. Chuck had dubbed it '_coercive persuasion_', and though he'd never like to admit that his government might not be all it was cracked up to be, he privately agreed with Chuck.

'No offence Devon, but I think this is the most enjoyable training exercise so far' Chuck's eyes sparkled with excitement as he handed over the bowling ball to Devon.

Devon laughed as he took the offered ball and tried yet again to beat Chuck's score… with no luck. 6 pins fell over, with 3 left on one side and 1 on the other. The words 'SPLIT' were formed on the overhead screen.

'Tough luck, Devon' Chuck patted Devon on the back, 'I guess you just don't have my _skillz'_ he broke into what was clearly not a smooth dance move. Devon let out a loud laugh, and then joined the nerd in what could only be described as brotherly display of love.

Devon didn't live near to his fraternity brothers anymore, and he had left home a long time ago. Ellie was his family now. Ellie and Chuck had been his family for 5 years when a new member had joined them; Sarah. He tried not to think about the blond spy's relationship with Chuck, because it made his head hurt, but he knew that they were in love, and that was all that mattered to him.

Things had undoubtedly become a little complicated on the night of their rehearsal dinner following his investigations into a certain John Casey, but the man was always around. Though at first the thought of spending more time with the man who had tried to kill him had been daunting, he began to understand the man, and trust him with the very thing John had tried to take; his life. Not just his life, but frequently Ellie's too, after he realised the kind of danger that the Bartowski family faced.

John took well to his insisted accompaniment of Ellie on shopping trips, and she seemed to enjoy the company.

Chuck had become more of a man than Devon had ever thought possible. He had been a decent man before he learned of his secret, but now he had turned into some kind of superhuman. He had no idea what went on on those missions, but if Chuck was some kind of debonair James-Bond super spy, then he sure was good at hiding it.

All he knew was, some nights there was a light on in the apartment above his, and other nights he couldn't hear or see anything, from Chuck, Sarah, or John across the courtyard. He didn't get told, and he didn't ask. Truth be told, he didn't think he'd want to know what happened when they weren't home those nights.

As he watched Chuck celebrate his latest strike he shook his head of these thoughts. All this government business was too complicated to think through.

-

Chuck hadn't been bowling since he was 8. **Fact.**

Chuck liked going out with Devon. **Fact.**

Chuck loved Sarah more than anyone in the world. **Fact.**

Chuck wanted to be a spy. **Fact.**

Chuck was handling the new Intersect 2.0 well. _Error._

Chuck loved Sarah more than anyone in the world. **Fact.**

Chuck wanted to be a spy. **Fact.**

Chuck was handling the new Intersect 2.0 well. _Error. _It was the last line that was causing problems for Chuck, because truth be told, the new intersect was causing more problems for Chuck than anyone but Sarah knew.

-

The new flashes hurt. They hurt on impact, they hurt during the action, and they hurt him after they occurred.

Bryce was right, he wasn't made out for this kind of work. And that was fine with Chuck, he hadn't needed to put himself into this kind of work.

Until that email.

Until the second attempt at the intersect had failed.

Until his sister's wedding day.

With each momentous day, he was coerced a little more into his alternate life.

Chuck didn't like to have regrets, because they messed with his mind, and he became unable to live with the present. So Chuck didn't make mistakes. He made the wrong decisions sometimes, sure, but they weren't mistakes. They were a chance for him to learn; an invaluable part of life.

But if he had to choose the time he'd gotten closest to making a serious mistake… it had been his decision to download the Intersect 2.0. Sure, Casey helped him through it. Devon put in all he had to make him adjust to the change too, though Devon himself was mostly clueless as to what brought on all of his sudden injuries. And Sarah… well, Sarah was no longer the unresponsive Sarah that so often occupied the blonde spy's shoes.

To be clear, Team Bartowski, was no longer Team Bartowski. Sure, they were still the same on the outside, but a lot had changed over the past 9 months. Thinking about it now, Chuck supposed that it must have all happened when Sarah had moved in with Chuck, the first night to be precise…

-

_Umm… so the bathroom's just down there on the left… and this is the kitchen…' Chuck pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans awkwardly, 'The bedro - '_

'_Uh, Chuck?' Sarah said softly, ' I know where everything is, I had summer surveillance, remember?'_

_'Oh yeah… well then I guess you know about the bed situation… so I can just take the sofa… ?' Chuck gazed uncomfortably at the sofa, not seeing the CIA agent dropping her bags and beginning a slow walk towards him. 'I guess maybe we should have taken the apartment that the CIA offered because- WOAH!'_

'_Sarah?' The woman in question was tugging Chuck down the hallway, 'Where… are we going?' They reached the bedroom and Sarah stood Chuck in front of the bed._

'_Chuck?' Her tone was clear cut, and when he responded with a confused look she continued, 'How many of us are there?' She gestured between them._

'_Two?' Chuck guessed._

'_Right. How many places are there on the bed?'_

'… _two…'_

'_Right. Then we don't have a problem' She smiled brightly at him and walked back towards her 's leaning up on one elbow next to Chuck, hair falling around her face and a look that seemed to combine curiosity, love and lust in her eyes. The light was dim, and moonlight seeped through the blinds. Her hand was warm as it reached underneath the covers and over Chuck's shoulder, creeping up past his collarbone to the curls behind his head._

_-_

'_Happy birthday Chuck', she whispers, and it's so dark, and she's so close and she's only coming closer to him and he thinks that if she comes any closer he'll just die over from the intensity of the moment. But she does come closer, and he doesn't die. Chuck can feel her warm breath on his face, feel her legs curling around his as she inches ever closer. He watches her closely as she reaches him, finally closing his eyes as her body's leaned over him so close now that their torsos and lips finally touch -_

_-_

_It's thanksgiving again, and he 'fell of a ladder screwing in a light bulb'. Ellie's practically a crowd as her hands manage to reach every part of his head at once, trying desperately to help him._

_He's swatting away her hands with cries of 'I'm ok'. He sends a look 'Get me out of here!' over to Devon, who manages to pry his wife off his brother in law by mentioning that he might have smelled something burning, and, 'could it be the turkey?'_

_Sarah's standing in the corner, concern etched across her features. She's holding a glass of wine, but clearly hasn't touched it. He smiles sheepishly at her, and she bites the inside of her lip, but puts on a smile for the rest of the evening. It is thanksgiving, after all._'_CHUCK!' The anguished cry emits from her lungs and it pierces the air but unfortunately not the tyres of the van that Chuck's body has been dragged off in. He was fiercely fighting a gang of Ring members one moment, and the next his shoulder had been thrown back harshly, as though shot._

_-_

_He doesn't remember much apart from more physical pain than he thinks he's ever felt, and then blonde hair around his face and teardrops on his face. An ambulance._

_Later on there's Sarah clutching at him tightly in her sleep. He promises himself not to hurt her anymore, but –_

_-_

_It's the first time she's shouted at the General, really shouted and argued. It earns her 2 weeks suspension and a severe warning that if she values her job, there won't be another misunderstanding. But Sarah's upset, because Chuck's hurt again, and it's more than beginning to affect her._Because Chuck _wasn't_ handling the Intersect 2.0 well. Sometimes he couldn't differentiate between who was on Team Bartowski and who was a Ring agent. Sometimes, he couldn't contain his emotions, and when he became too emotional he couldn't control his actions, and people got hurt. Namely, Sarah got hurt.

-

When he turns to Devon, who's taken advantage of Chuck's reminiscing to practice more of his bowling skills, and says that he's just about ready to finish up here, if he is, the older man agrees. An evening with Ellie is what he could do with, to deal with the pain of losing multiple times to Chuck.

'Alright, Chuck. You win', Devon laughs and holds up a hand for a high 5, 'good game, dude. That was _awesome_', he says as Chuck complies to his request and smacks his hand against Devon's.

'Yeah, thanks Devon, you were right… I did need that', he smiles, '...I think Sarah said she's ok to pick me up from here so if you wanted to shoot off home…'

'Cool, thanks bro, and fantastic game tonight', he's picking up his things, 'shall we say… re match next week?' They reach the exit to the underground car park.

'Sure, next week sounds super' Chuck replies. Devon points at him, and with a final wave, exits towards his car.

As he waits for Sarah in the car park, he's pulled back into his thoughts.

-

_It's the first time she's shouted at the General, really shouted and argued. It earns her 2 weeks suspension and a severe warning that if she values her job, there won't be another misunderstanding. But Sarah's upset, because Chuck's hurt again, and it's more than beginning to affect her._

'_Control yourself, Agent Walker' The General barked, a cold glare on her face, 'We were told you were a good agent, not a useless, emotional wreck' She spat out the words without a hint of emotion on her face. Sarah's face is beginning to crumple, her confidence with the General will only last so far, especially in front of Casey _and _Chuck._

'_HEY!' Chuck's on his feet shouting too now, his face contorted with a deep expression of loathing and rage, 'DON'T YOU CALL HER USE - ' and then his body's spasming as a flash shakes him to the core._

'_Chuck!' Sarah shouts, disregarding the General's questions of what's going on, she rushes to his side and tries to hold him still, but it looks like he's having a fit, and she can't stop the spasms that pulsate through his veins, throwing his body around. Nothing like this has ever happened before, but then neither she nor Casey has ever seen him like this before._

_And then he's lashing out -_He'll never forgive himself for the bruises he gave her that day, and he's vowed to keep his temper under control, renewed the promise to never hurt her again.

-

He's brought out of his memories by a honk and the flash of artificial lights off of a stunning black beauty, with an even more stunning beauty sitting inside. She sends him a smile that almost makes him think that he should pad himself up whenever he sees Sarah, because surely, one day his knees will give in and then he'll be glad of the external protection.

She lowers her window and asks with a smile that promises more, 'Ready to go, Mr. Bartowski?'

He leans through the window inside the car and the scent of her shampoo immediately hits him. It's sweet, but not sickly so, a soft fragrance that he wishes he could name; she must have been working out beforehand. He captures her lips and she giggles because his nose is cold from standing in the cold car park. Her lips are warm against his cold ones, which only makes him lean closer. That, and she's lifted a hand from the steering wheel to pull him closer with a hand around his neck.

He must have forgotten to breathe, because he's panting now, though he's sure it's not been more than 10 seconds.

'Mmmm…. Get in here' she growls. He jogs around the front of the car, and when he's inside the wonderfully warm car that just smells like his favourite person in the world, she asks him, 'Did you have a good game?'

'Yeah', he tells her, and then he pauses, 'I knew I'd feel like this for Ellie but…. I'm really going to miss Devon'

She looks over at him as she exits the car park and pulls a hand from the wheel to hold his. 'I know.' She whispers.

-

Ellie wasn't really sure where Chuck's gone, and neither is Devon, or Casey. In fact, no one seems to know where Chuck and his girlfriend have gone, but every month there's a postcard. It's always the same message.

_---- not_

_It's ^ complicated. (Anymore). _

_The Pioneers_


	26. Instructions

-

_The End_

-

And so, Agents of Chuckland, you have been shown each of these twenty-three pieces of writing.

Before you venture off, I would like you to review as many entries as you can just for evidence that you have read them.

-

**Now I repeat**: Your mission is to pair each entry to the correct author purely through their distinctive writing styles. You are not to discuss your choices *whichI'msureyouhavealready* as this is a fair test.

I am now taking votes regarding identities. You may enter all twenty-three guesses if you wish, or only a few you are sure of.

Also, you may select your favourite entry and one other.

-your favourite: _two points_

-second choice: _one point_

_-_

**There will be a winner of:**

1) The author with the most 'distinctive' writing

2) The agent with the most correct guesses

3) The favourite entry as well as the runner-up

-

**Please PM your votes to the WHO ARE YOU profile.**

You will have one week of voting, guesses will close on the **1st of December.**

Afterward, the results will be shown as an update of this story, the correct answers and individual guesses of the voters will be posted either here, or on the board (.net/topic/49974/19023805/9/#19559037), where you can then discuss away about how wrong you were about your votes.

-

Thanks again to all you participants, because you were the ones who made this work by entering. These are awesome pieces and an awesome addition to the fandom, especially because the updating has slowed significantly over these weeks without Chuck. And of course, I'd be extremely happy if you decided to continue or repost your fic under your own name.

Thank you also to those who bothered reviewing.

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to contact me, or if you have any suggestions or you find anything wrong with the way the votes are going to be counted/favourites are going to be chosen.

-

Hope to hear from you and your votes!

Don't forget to shamelessly advertise :)

Good luck!

FL


	27. RESULTS!

HELLO! Been a while hasn't it? But here are the results, and thanks guys for waiting for so long! But since it was my 18th yesterday, I decided you should be happy with me! So I finnnnnally bothered to upload these :))

It's interesting to see which authors are mistaken for who, and I'm definitely happy with who I've been compared with :) So the brackets () are the number of people who guessed the correct entry (doesn't include your own guess), and the square brackets [] are the favourite entries.

Enjoy!

* * *

**WINNER** (most guesses correct): Wepdiggy/Zeretica

**WRITING STYLE**: 1) Liam2, 2) Mikki13, truthseekr, 3) poa, 4) brickroad

**FAVOURITE ENTRIES**: 1) Liam2, 2) MySoapBox

* * *

_**Entries:**_

.

1) mikki13 (7) [1]

2) Zeretica (0)

3) TwotoTenth (2) [1]

4) Starbuck (1)

5) kittygoddess (4)

6) Liam2 (9) [6]

7) FL (1)

8) malamoo (4)

9) Zyfr (2) [2]

10) truthseekr (7)

11) crystal elements (1)

12) poa (6) [2]

13) chasingfireflies (3) [1]

14) Yokaputo (1)

15) mxpw (3)

16) sgafan360 (0)

17) SWLF (3)

18) MySoapBox (2) [3]

19) kroblues (1)

20) Just Chuck (3) [1]

21) brickroad (5) [2]

22) Wepdiggy (2)

23) londonwriting (2)

* * *

_**Guesses:**_

.

Crystal elements- 9 correct

Londonwriting- 4 correct

Mxpw- 9 correct

Jagged1- 5 correct

TwotoTenth- 3 correct

brickroad- 7 correct

Zeretica- 12 correct

malamoo- 11 correct

Wepdiggy- 12 correct

FL- 7 correct

MySoapBox- 2 correct

* * *

The guesses in detail are on the forum, see below. It's too hard to format the spaces here.

* * *

Feel free to discuss the results here: .net/topic/49974/19023805/2/


End file.
